One Half Romeo
by Emgee Kagamine
Summary: They were complete opposites. Rich and Poor, Popular and Outcast-ed. But when they suddenly wish for a little change in their lives, they never expected to find each other.   FrUK/USCAN/AU/HUMAN NAMES/
1. Prologue

1/2 Romeo

Meet Arthur, he's your regular hardworking, average, plain, "just-try-your-best" kind of guy. At nineteen, he's living on his own, and doing all he can with a minimum wage in a poor attempt to support himself and make ends meet. During the day, he works a part time shift at a local coffee shop, providing tea and other beverages to average customers like himself. Occasionally, Arthur enjoys hanging out with the very few friends he may or may not have made at school, which includes: a loud self-proclaimed "_hero_", and said hero's whisper-quiet boyfriend. Arthur, however, does have a pretty stable love life. He's never been dumped in his entire life. He's also never been asked out, but rejected many times? Yes.

Oh yeah, he's living the dream.

_Which is why he wishes to end this dream._

Meet Francis, he has an _amazing_ life. Son and heir to a chain of five-star restaurants, he's always received every single thing that he's ever desired. Born as the poster child of perfect health, good looks, and wealth, he has both men and women attending to his every beck and call. Being the son of a father who owns a multi-billion dollar corporation, Francis does little work, while still planning to go to college. Francis' popularity with the world brings to him: fame, more fortune, _girls._ At twenty, however, Francis can't ignore the strange feeling he gets, looking at his perfect world, as if something in his life is missing. Usually, he shakes off such a ridiculous emotion. After all, there's no one in the world who doesn't want to be him. He's living the life that everyone dreams about.

…_He also wishes to change this dream._

Both aren't so different though, entering the same college, sharing the same dorm, the same fate…

Little did they know that they would ironically fall into each other's path. Enter their star-crossed romance.

* * *

_"For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."_


	2. Chapter 1

"I'm sorry _sir_, but for the seventh time, we do not sell lemonade at this location. Would you like to order something _else?_" a very annoyed and agitated Arthur drawled out. The customer, however, chose not to acknowledge this information and replied,

"…how rude. To think someone as pathetic and unreliable as you can find work. It's horrific."

_Snap._

"_Well. _At least _I_ can move on with my 'pathetic' life unlike some morons who can't accept that fact that this isn't a _superstore._"

"Arthur. That's enough. I'm sorry sir, but our shop does not sell lemonade as of yet, please feel free to try anything else on our menu." The store manager turned to Arthur slightly, "…I will need to speak to you in the back, please."

Arthur gulped hard, and took a deep breath before following the manager to his office.

"You do know why you're here, correct?" Arthur stared at the ground for a moment before replying,

"…Yes."

The manager heaved a disappointed sigh, and rubbed his temples before sitting down at his desk and looking Arthur straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, but this has happened way too many times to count. At this point, I'm going to have to let you go."

Arthur lowered his head, "I understand." He immediately threw his apron to the side and ran out of the shop. "This is just _fucking_ great. How the hell am I supposed to pay off this month's rent? Or my own college tuition?" He made his way up the stairs and unlocked the door to his dorm. Unfortunately, Arthur did not have a roommate to share the dormitory fee with, so here he is, stuck by himself. Again.

It was at this point that Arthur decided to take a nap, clear his head, think of happy thoughts; like rainbows, and unicorns, and fairies, maybe even something unrealistic but somewhat amusing, like a flying mint bunny….

"…_What_ am I doing with my life?"

* * *

The next day, Arthur got up, and headed towards his first class. That was until he stopped himself on the way there. In front of him, the girl he had been planning to confess to was alone. Looking both ways, he decided to walk up casually, give a friendly smile, and greet her, "Good morning!"

The girl stared up at him for a moment before forcing a polite smile and replying, "Hello, how are you?"

"Well, I'm fine, but…I was wondering…you know…if you happen to be free sometime soo-"  
"No thank you."

Arthur felt his heart break a bit, but he quickly regained his posture and felt the need to walk away as soon as he could, "Ahh… well, that's fine. It was nice talking to you! Have a good day!"

When we thought that the girl was out of sight, he walked through the halls until he found himself in front of his homeroom. He checked his watch, "6:30AM. Yes, I am most definitely early." Still feeling a pang of hurt in his chest, he glared down and kicked his homeroom door. All was silent until a small crash was heard emitting from his homeroom. Curious, Arthur slowly turned the knob and swished the door wide open, revealing his two best friends.

No wait, scratch that. Revealing his two best friends. Who were dating each other. Making out, (quite heavily) on his, _his_, desk.

"What. The. Fuck?"

The trio stared at each other for a brief moment, before the couple broke the silence by laughing nervously.

"Hey! Artie! G'morning!"

Arthur felt his eye twitch.

"…Alfred. Matthew. _Get the fuck off my desk._"

Matthew, the more timid of the three quickly obeyed and moved to his seat a few desks back, before whimpering a soft, "I'm so sorry!"

Alfred, on the other hand rolled his eyes and followed Matthew to his seat beside him.

"Woah! Someone's a bit touchy this morning! What happened, buddy? Get rejected again?"

"Al! That's rude!"

"Hey! He's the one who very rudely interrupted us!"

"But he's our friend!"  
"But I'm your _boyfriend."_

"Al…"

"Fine, fine, fine. I'm sorry, Artie. There, you happy now?" Alfred pouted.

"Yes, and I love you very much." Matthew beamed happily.

And, like a puppy pumped on adrenaline, Alfred instantly perked up and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

Arthur fake-gagged, "…I can't believe I'm friends with you two."

Giggling, Matthew replied, "but you'd love us unconditionally, right?"

"…unfortunately."

Alfred, feeling a bit left out of the conversation, decided to bring up something to spice the atmosphere a bit. "Oh hey, we're having a new guy transfer to our homeroom."

This caught Arthur's attention (strangely). "In the middle of the semester? _Right_ after exams just finished? Does that not sound somewhat suspicious to you?"

"Well…" Alfred started, "…apparently he's a foreign exchange student from France. He's super rich and his father decided to send him here to improve his management skills."

"_Interesting…"_ Arthur thought to himself. _"…another person to make my life look more depressing."_

Arthur grabbed his bag.

"Well, I'm leaving for a bit. It's still early for class to start. You two, try not to get caught."

"Will do, Artie!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, and shut the door behind him.

"…"

"…"

"So…"

"Hmm?"

"Shall we continue?" Alfred winked suggestively.  
Matthew blinked, "Continue what?"

"Y'know what I'm talking about…"

"…Al…"

"…Mattie…"

"…So can we?"

Matthew sighed.  
"Fine. We have an hour left."  
"Yeah!" Alfred punched the air in victory.

And in less than half a second, they made their way to Arthur desk, and resumed their previous position.

* * *

Arthur walked up the stairs and opened the door to the building's rooftop. He inhaled deeply, and dropped his bag to the side of the door.

Walking to the edge of the roof, he leaned on the bar, and sighed, "…a new student, huh? Must be nice having everything you could ever want in the world…and more…"

He thought back to himself. How he was unaccomplished, not spectacular, lacking in culinary skill.

"I can't do _anything_ right."

He looked down the edge of the bar. He was a good eight levels off the ground. He smirked to himself, and laughed pathetically. "…What a lucky bastard."  
He then pushed himself from the bar, and swung one leg over, then the other. He stared blankly at the cold, hard, pavement beneath him.

"Maybe I should end this now. I'm not going anywhere in life. Where's my happy ending? Who would ever love someone like me?" Tears already falling down his face, Arthur let go of the bar. Let himself go. Expecting to fall onto the hard, cold, warm, kind of fleshy… _"…since when did concrete smell like cologne?"_

He looked up and noticed bright blue eyes staring down at him.

"…You! Are you alright? _Je voudrais- _Oh! Pardon me! English! I'm in America! What I mean is…! I would not know what to do, if someone as cute as you fell to your impending doom!"

Arthur blinked, as his eyes widened. French? He was _French. _Great. He fell into the arms of the one with the life he wished he had. But, none the less, he _did_ save him from falling. So it was only proper for a gentleman of his standard to accept the gesture.

"Thanks…that would've hurt."

"Ahh… it is alright! But…how did you fall off this building in the first place? Perhaps you we're in a fight?..._Je ne sais pas_…"

Casually Arthur replied, "Not at all, I simply wanted to relieve my stress."

"What? Ahh, but I am glad you are safe now, _mon ami._ Oh! Before I forget, may I have your name?"

Slightly shocked, he answered, "Arthur Kirkland. And who might you be?" Although he had a pretty good idea of who we was already.

All of a sudden, the man pulled out a rose from his bag and handed it to Arthur, "Francis Bonnefoy. It is a pleasure to be sharing your dorm room with you, Arthur."

The both of them stood still for a few moments.

* * *

_"One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun  
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun."_


	3. Chapter 2

"…You're my _what?" _Arthur was slightly taken back by Francis' comment.

"Roommate, _mon ami. Roommate._"

Arthur laughed inwardly to himself, "This is just fucking great."

Sighing, he knew it was inevitable; he might as well write a sad entry in his journal and move on.

He then lazily pointed towards a very tall building.

"Alright then, let me show you where our dorm is."

Arthur walked with a quick pace, hearing Francis' footsteps quickly following behind.

He rolled his eyes, _"…this sucks. This really fucking sucks."_

Making a sharp turn at the stairs of the dormitory, he took a left and pressed the elevator button.

Once the doors opened, they quickly stepped inside and waited to be carried to the third floor.

Elevator music flooded and replaced the awkward silence, until, "This is a very nice building, Arthur."

Raising a questionable eyebrow at him strangely Arthur replied, "…yes, I suppose it is…"

The elevator doors slowly opened, and, a couple of stairs and awkward small talk later, they arrived at the door.

"Would you like help with your bags, or anything?"

"No, but thank you! The woman at the front said that she would send some men to carry my luggage later today."

Arthur pouted inwardly at the special treatment one could get if they were rich, famous, and _somewhat attractive._

"Well, you better get settled in soon, or it'll be a hassle later on."

"I understand. _Merci beaucoup_, Arthur!"

"…no problem. I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up if there's an emergency, or if the house is burning."

"I will do my best! Please, have a good rest!"

Oh yes, this is going to be interesting.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur woke up to an odd, painful, squawking by his head. Deciding he wanted no part in whatever was happening, he kept his eyes shut and listened for more sounds. Boxes rummaging (he assumed Francis was putting his things away), Arthur slowly let himself drift away again, hoping to get into a peaceful, tranquil…

"_SQUAWK."_

Arthur shot up out of his bed. "…GAH."

He looked to his left only to see a strange parrot-like bird sitting in a cage beside him.

"Ahh, I see you've met Pierre!"  
"…What?"

"…He's my pet."  
"I can see that."

"…"

"…He is a very good messenger bird, you know!"

Still half dazed from a loud awakening, Arthur carefully pondered the thought, "…messenger bird, huh? He must come in handy if you need to order out…"

His train of thought was interrupted by soft laughter.

"Well he does very much love flying, no matter where we go."

"Wouldn't messenger birds be…extinct?"

"…Massive reptiles are extinct, _mon ami,_ Pierre is just highly intelligent. Like a government agent, with _wings_."

Arthur laughed. Francis laughed. Arthur quickly stopped laughing after remembering where this man in front of him came from. _Wealth. Popularity. Perfection._

"I guess we better get ready for class…" Arthur rubbed his eyes and yawned, "…don't want to be late on your first day, _new kid._"

"I suppose you are right. Although, it is somewhat difficult to speak English everyday…"

"You get used to it. Now come on, let's get ready."

* * *

Walking up the stairs to the hallway, and then making a left towards their homeroom, the awkward silence thickened.  
"…So, Arthur, is it easy to make friends at this school?"

Arthur unconsciously laughed out loud, "…y-yeah. It's pretty easy. For _your_ particular type, anyways."

As they reached their homeroom Francis quickly asked, "It is pretty early…should we walk around for a while until our classmates show up..?"

_Thud._

Arthur sighed, "Oh, trust me. Some people _love_ getting up this early."

He turned the knob, and swung the door open.

"_…OFF. MY. DESK. NOW."_

Pretending that they couldn't hear him, the couple now continually making out on his desk, slowly broke their session and turned to look at them.

"..Hey, buddy!"

"…Don't you '_buddy_' me, Alfred."

Curiously, Alfred glanced to Arthur's right, where he saw an unfamiliar face, eyes wide, looking at them.

"…Oh hey, you're that one French guy."

Matthew hushed him, "...Al!"

"..What? It's true!"

"What did I say about manners?"

"…keep fifty percent of my thoughts to myself…", he mimicked Matthew's voice.

Matthew patted him lightly on the head, "Good boy!"

"hmph."

Arthur sighed, "…Francis, meet my two best friends; Alfred F. Jones, and Matthew Williams; And yes, before you ask the Oh-so-obvious-question, they are a romantically involved couple."

Francis chuckled a bit, "I think that is very sweet. _Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour!"_

Alfred stared, "…say what?"

Matthew translated, "he said, '_Nothing is real but dreams and love__'._ You would know that if you paid attention in class."

"…But you've always been better at French! So you can translate for me anytime! It's convenient!"

"…You're so lazy."

"…You're so in love with me."

"...You win this round, _sweetheart_."

"Anyways!" Arthur was getting tired of their little love fest.

"…Francis, there's a vacant seat beside mine if you want it."

Alfred laughed, "No. Really?"

This resulted in a punch to the arm, no cuddling on the couch tonight, and a very apologetic looking Alfred.

"Class is starting soon, so get the _fuck_ off my desk."

"I'm sorry!"

"Whatever."

"…How nice!"

* * *

As the class finally started, and everyone settled in their seats, the homeroom teacher began, "As most of you may or may not already know, we have a new transfer student." He pointed towards Francis, "…would you please, introduce yourself?"

Francis stood up from his seat beside Arthur, "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. My father is the head of a line of five-star restaurants in France and around the world. I am looking forward to studying here in America."

There was a light applause as Francis sat back down. The class began, and ended all too soon. Arthur and Francis found themselves at the front of their dorm.

"So, did you enjoy your first day here?" Arthur tried to make small talk while he rustled through his bag for his keys.

"Ah! _Oui! _Yes! It was a very good experience."

Finally pulling out his key ring, Arthur unlocked the door and stepped inside, Francis diligently following behind him.

"…is there anything you want for dinner?"

"Oh! Please! Let me cook our meal for tonight, as a token of my gratitude! You've been so kind to me since our first meeting!"

Arthur felt a pang of guilt for a quick moment, but it automatically faded away. "…well, if you really want to… knock yourself out."

"_Voilà__!_" Francis placed a tray of food in front of Arthur, "…what _is_ it?"

"Quiche Lorraine is the most used name. You simply add chopped bacon to the egg and cream before baking." Francis beamed, professionally. "Try it!"

Taking his fork and knife, and cutting off a generous piece, Arthur lifted the food to his lips and bit.

Eyes wide, he never thought he'd see the day when he could say to anyone, "…Fuck. It's actually_ good._"

Francis laughed, "I am happy! My father always cooked for me, so watching him was always so interesting. I am glad I can make someone happy, when they eat my food."

Arthur smiled, and thought that maybe living with this person may not be completely awful.

"I was wondering…"

"Hmm?"

"I would like a tour of this city, since I am new here…"

"Sure, any time, just ask."

"Oh! _Merci!_ Thank you! You're very kind!"

The guilt was back. "Well, nobody's perfect."

"Although that is true, at least-"

Francis couldn't finish, as he noticed that Arthur was eating more, and already down to his fourth plate.

He laughed to himself, "_how cute…"_

_

* * *

_

With dinner finished, and dishes washed, the duo sat down on their separate beds as the room became eerily quiet.

"…Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"…Your accent…"

"What about it?"

"…You're not from here, _Oui?_"

"Well…a few years ago, my family moved here from England."

"Ahh…that explains so much."

Arthur laughed, "You know…if we were countries, we'd probably hate each other, and fight a lot."

Francis flashed him a friendly smile and replied, "But Arthur, we are _not_ countries. We are people. We are friends."

Arthur stared at him and blinked a bit, the words trying to process through his mind. _Friends?_ He thought of them as _friends? _They barely know anything about each other, but they were friends.

Smiling at the thought, Arthur nodded in approval, "Alright, we're friends."

* * *

_"This day's black fate on more days doth depend:  
This but begins the woe others must end."_


	4. Chapter 3

One might think that during their first night in their college dorm, it would result in a nice, peaceful, quiet, slumber.

_Thump._

_Thud._

"_A-ahhn!"_

Francis stared up at his ceiling for a few moments, listening to the suspicious and rather suggestive sounds emitting from the room next door. He blinked a few times before turning over to face Arthur's bed and wondered how in the world he could sleep through that noise…

"Psst!"

"ngh….wha..?"

"Arthur! Please Wake up!" Francis shook Arthur repeatedly until he rolled over, slowly opened his eyes, and glared at the shadowy annoyance.

"…I suppose you have a good reason for waking me up at…" Arthur glanced over, "…IT'S TWO O' CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING. WHAT _IS_ WRONG WITH YOU?"

"_Je suis désolé!_ I am sorry! But can you not hear that? It sounds like they are taming some crazed animal in there!"

The two stayed quiet for a moment before the sounds quietly resounded through the walls once more.

_Thump._

_Thud._

"_Ahn! A-Al!"_

Arthur smacked his palm against his forehead.

"…You're not_ too_ far from the truth…"

"…That's just Alfred and Matthew. Don't worry about it. They have an irregular schedule for their…_events_. Get used to it."

"Ahh… I see. Well in that case, I understand. They are very sweet together, _non_?"

Arthur thought for a moment and stretched his arms a bit.  
"Of course they are. They've been together ever since the sixth grade."

Francis smiled, "It's nice. They will always have each other. _L'on est bien faible quand on est amoureux._"

Arthur made a confused face.

Laughing, Francis replied, "In English, it means, '_One is very weak when one is in love'_."

"No kidding, I haven't seen Alfred this well behaved since we had to bribe him with hamburgers just to have him sit down."

"So they are perfect for each other, _Oui_?"

Arthur sighed, but smiled slightly, "Yeah, I suppose they are. Although, it never used to be that way…"

Intrigued, Francis pressed further, "Did something happen to them in the past?"

"You could say that. You see, as innocent as Matthew looks now, he wasn't always this sweet, that is, until he met Alfred."

"I see…"

"Well, let's just say he was involved with some relatively shady people."

Francis narrowed his eyes, "Hmm… the word in English, I believe… is 'gang'?"

Arthur nodded, "yeah, it wasn't exactly 'cool' to be friends with the leader of a dangerous group, but to me he was still Matthew."

"So, Alfred knew about Matthew's group?"

Arthur laughed, "Oh, he knew about it, alright. Every day he would get beat up just for asking Matthew out on a date."

Francis winced, "…that is… tough love…"

"Yes, it is. But eventually, after about the thirteenth time he asked Matthew out, Alfred made him a deal."

Shocked, Francis pressed on, "…Deal, you say…?"

"Yeah, and I was there with him when he proposed it. 'Go out with me just once, and if you still hate me after that, I won't bug you ever again.' He said. It was a really risky move, but it was something Alfred would definitely do."

Like a child, Francis hugged his pillow to his chest and stared at Arthur intensely, "_…Oui, mais, _What happened next?"

"Well, Matthew accepted the offer, probably in hopes that this would end Alfred's unwanted visits. He took Matthew to a burger joint down the street from our old high school."

"_Oui, oui,_ and…?"

"…after that, Matthew gave up his position. He told me, '…I have regrets for not agreeing to him sooner.'"

Throwing his pillow back and lying back down on it to face the ceiling, Francis sighed, "It must be nice to have someone to love, and be loved in return."

"You don't have anything to worry about. You're rich, famous, good looking. You can have anyone you wanted for a lover." Arthur's eyes widened as he realized he was thinking out loud.

"…w-well… w-w-what I meant to say wa-"

"_Non_, you are completely right. As a child I received everything and anything I could ever want in anyone's life time. As I grew older and my responsibilities changed…_non,_ my responsibilities became unwanted dreams, I realized that even if I did have all the riches in the entire world, it would never make me happy, unless I had someone to share my dreams with…" Francis laughed bitterly, "…do you know how many people would pretend to fall in love with me, just to use me for my money or status? It's awful. Social suicide would not even be an option for me at this point. But you know, I was thinking of ending this life that people see as 'perfect'. But thanks to someone falling from the sky and treating me like a normal person, I've changed my mind."

Arthur felt his cheeks warm up slightly, "W-well, I suppose we both stopped each other from ending

_anything_ at the exact same time."

"Yes, it is very ironic, but at the same time, it is very refreshing. You are an amazing person, Arthur Kirkland, _Je me souviens._"

"…you're pretty unforgettable yourself."

Francis raised an eyebrow, "You can understand?"

"Matthew says a lot of things to Alfred that kind of burn into my brain."

"I see. How quaint."

"…So, Arthur, if we were to say, hypothetically, you were to meet your future spouse one day, what exactly would you imagine them to be like?"

Smirking, Arthur opened his bedside table, looking for a folder. After finding said folder, he handed it over to Francis.

"What is this?"

"My list of the top ten things my future lover _must_ have and be."

"You are very high maintenance, I feel sorry for your future significant other."

Choosing to ignore the comment, Arthur instead pointed to the piece of paper tucked into the very front of the folder.

Francis let his eyes scan over each and every word:

_1. Must be one hundred percent loyal._

_2. Must know how to cook decent meals._

_3. Must get along with my friends._

_4. Must be of average attractiveness._

_5. Must tell me they love me at least three times a day._

_6. Must be their number one._

_7. Must always think of me._

_8. Must like unicorns._

Francis laughed a bit, "…Unicorns?"

"…I like unicorns. So what?" Arthur pouted.

"Nothing, it's cute."

Arthur muttered something incoherent under his breath.

Francis continued reading:

_9. Must not pressure me into anything._

_10. Will never try to change me._

Slipping the list back into its folder, Francis passed the folder back to Arthur, who placed it back quickly into his drawer.

"…That is a very impressive list."

"You think?"

"_Oui,_ I do. You set your standards high enough so that the right person for you can reach them. I admire you very much; you have a good amount of respect for yourself."

Arthur blushed, "…It sounds completely idiotic, but ever since I was small, I've always believed that we all have our 'other half' somewhere in this world, but, we just haven't met them yet."

"That is a very good mind set to have. I am impressed."

"Thanks..."

"…"

"…"

Arthur started feeling uncomfortable. He also started to question the strange way his heart would beat three times faster around Francis, or the way his cheeks would become completely flushed whe-

"Are you busy tomorrow, by any chance?"

Startled by his words, Arthur played with a loose thread at the end of his blanket before replying,

"…I'm free all day tomorrow..."

"Ahh! _Trés bien! _My father recommended that I visit a bistro a few blocks from our school. I would like it very much if you were to accompany me!"

"Sure, why not? I said I'd give you a tour anyways. Might as well start tomorrow."

"Alright! Our date will be tomorrow, as planned!"

Arthur blinked. A _date._ With _Francis._

He scratched his head in confusion.

Still, he couldn't stop the violent pace of his heartbeat as Francis went on to talk about how amazing their day would be, _together._

_

* * *

_

_"A greater power than we can contradict  
Hath thwarted our intents."_


	5. Chapter 4

As a bright ray of sunshine shone through the blinds in Arthur's dorm, he let himself slowly stretch across his bed, and yawned. Slowly pushing himself up from under his covers, Arthur brought a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes awake. Hopefully, today would be a good day. Peering to his left, he noticed Francis' bed empty, and a note on top of his nightstand:

"_Bonjour, Arthur! I was called early to pick up my new schedule for school. _

_I will meet you at the bistro at this address…"_

Arthur quickly memorized the information and proceeded to get dressed. He felt skittish to a certain extent about today, but Francis reassured him that this was simply a friendly hang out to get to know each other better. Arthur on the other hand, ignored the peculiar feeling of disappointment in his gut, and decided that Francis probably just had a poor grasp of the English language. Yes, that was it. Of course.

"_Squawk."_

"Good morning, Pierre." He gently patted the bird's head with his fingers, "…Who's a good bird?...You are! Oh yes, you are!"

He always felt the undeniable cuteness radiating from the small creature, although he would never show this side of himself to Francis if by chance, he was around.

Arthur walked over to the mirror, fixed his collar, and checked. Blue skinny jeans, black high tops, white casual shirt, and his favourite sweater vest on top. He quickly tossed his hair around, with a comb. He always did prefer his hair perfectly messy.

"Alright, I'm out." Grabbing his keys and wallet, he shoved them lazily into his messenger bag and headed for the bistro.

A good fifteen minutes later, Arthur was pretty darn sure he saw that stop sign about five times.  
"…Main street….main street… damn it. Where's that stupid city directory?"

Finally, Arthur ran into a police station a couple blocks down and unfalteringly swallowed the rest of his dignity and manly pride to ask for directions.

At last, Arthur made it to the small concession, and noticed Francis waving for him to come over to a reserved table, outside.

"You are thirty-two minutes late."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I got lost somewhere along the way."

"No problem, I have already ordered drinks for us. Let's talk while we wait."

"…So… how's life?"

"That is a very over used question, _non_?"

"Hey! At least I'm trying!"

"So, let us start with something simple. What is your favourite colour?"

"Easy. Green."

"Interesting. It fits you quite well, actually. Soothing, maturity, self-control, minus your vulgar outbursts, of course."

"How about you?"

"Red, naturally."

Arthur perked up faintly at the way Francis answered with absolutely no hesitation.

"…and I assume you have a reason for this as well?"

"Always! It is of course, the essential colour of _love_."

"…you're all hung up on all that romantic crap."

"I can admit it, though! It is, after all, _vital_ to human life."

Although Arthur never openly admitted it, at that precise moment, he couldn't agree with Francis more. What he wouldn't give just to have someone there for him, someone to actually care, someone to love. His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of ice hitting glass as their drinks were set in front of them.

"…It's yellow."

"Yes, yes it is."

Arthur gradually lifted the glass and took a leisurely sip.

"…it's '_Passion Fruit Mango Tea_'."

At the word "Passion", Arthur choked and coughed, wondering why his stomach flipped on him so suddenly.

Unexpectedly alert, Francis passed a stack of napkins to Arthur and patted his back for support.  
"Are you alright?"

He coughed a few more times and croaked something along the lines of, "y-yeah… I'm good."

Aware of their heavy proximity, Arthur felt his face go red once more.

"…H-how about we finish our drinks…and walk around the city for a while…?"

Biting his lower lip in worry, Francis cautiously replies, "If you believe it will help by walking, I have no problem what so ever…"

* * *

"…and over there is a local park I used to go to for exercise."

Looking towards his left, Francis made a note of the large green field, a few dogs running in the distance; maybe Pierre would like it here for some fresh air…

As they walked further into the city, Arthur saw something in his peripheral vision that caught his attention. He subconsciously grabbed Francis' hand and dragged him towards the bright neon-lit entrance of the local arcade. A very confused and surprised Francis blinked a couple of times, looked down at Arthur, and tilted his head to the side in misunderstanding.

"I used to love going here. It's a lot of fun. Trust me."

Still holding on to his hand, Francis let himself be whisked away into the colourful building.

Upon entering, Arthur noticed his hold on Francis and quickly let go. The arcade was really loud, as Francis had imagined, seeing as he couldn't hear Arthur's attempts to tell him where they were going.

He saw Arthur give up, and pointed to a very brightly shinning machine, a strange platform attached. With arrows.

As they neared the game, Arthur noticed a familiar military-style jacket poking from behind the contraption. Commanding Francis to stay put on the gaming platform; Arthur moved to examine the figures lurking in the shadows.

What Arthur found were not creepy druggies, or someone passed out from too much "RPG".

Oh, no. Not at all. This was _far_ more worse.

"…Holy, fuck."

Shadow number one, pulled away softly from its "business", and flashed him a bright smile.

"…H-hey…! Did you miss us…?"

Arthur face palmed.

"…behind the dance machine."

"Yep!"

"…You two would do _that_ anywhere. Won't you?"

"Hey! You'd do it too if you had someone!"

"At least _I_ would be a little- no wait. Much _more_ discreet, than the both of you."

Shadow number two whispered quietly, "W-we're sorry…" before staring hard at the first, "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry too."

"Well Alfred, unfortunately this is not my jurisdiction; therefore, any behaviour you display in public is not my problem."

"B-But! Mattie was scared! We _just_ played that new zombie shooter game. C'mon, those things are pretty freaking realistic!"

Arthur looked down at Matthew, who was tucked securely in Alfred's arms, and was obviously _not_ terrified. Automatically, Matthew shot him a look that clearly said, "Let him have his hero tantrum, I don't want to hear about it in the morning."

Nodding in understanding, Arthur changed the subject.

"Why not you both quit sucking face, and get out here to greet Francis?"

Alfred made a face before pulling Matthew up with him and giving Francis a two finger salute.

"So, you guys gonna play the dance game? Arthur's pretty good at it, y'know."

Now interested, Francis chuckled, "Oh, really now? Then I will just have to try my best and beat him, _oui_?"

"Go ahead, frog. I've never lost to anyone."

Alfred laughed, "Oh, damn! It's on now! He's going all British on you!"

"Well, this _frog_ has won many dance competitions back in France."

Humoured, Matthew urged him, "Let's see if it's enough to beat Arthur."

Setting Level: **hard**

Trick mode: **on**

**Song Selected.**

**Play.**

_Left. Right. Right. Down. Up. Spin._

* * *

"Damn! You got owned!"

Alfred slapped Arthur hard on the back and leaned on Matthew for support as they left the arcade.

The smaller blond squeaked in surprised, as he was hoisted from off the ground, and carried by Alfred piggyback style on the sidewalk.

Arthur, still contemplating his ill-fated loss, tried to gather up the very small words he had to form a sentence.

"…How in the worl-"

"Ten years of dance lessons. I never would have thought I would use them at all."

"…I applaud you."

"Why, _merci!_"

The group walked and talked together all the way to their dorms. Alfred making them wait a moment as he bought a few _"night time hero supplies"_ that he proclaimed were simply for the couple's "happy hour". Finally reaching their dorms, Matthew brought up a different topic before they went inside.

"Today was fun; we should hang out again sometime! If you want, Alfred and I will be at the main mall tomorrow, you're free to join us."

Patting his friend on the head softly, (and earning a jealous grunt from his counterpart at the same time) Arthur thought for a few seconds before replying, "If you're up for it, Francis, I don't mind tagging along as well."

"Then I shall join you all tomorrow. It was quite amusing to be around such lively people."

Saying their quick goodbyes, everyone went into their rooms and prepared themselves for what Alfred would say, is "The most epic place in the entire world."

* * *

_"How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,  
Like softest music to attending ears!"_


	6. Chapter 5

"…nggh…"

"...up….wake up, Arthur…"

Francis gently poked Arthur repeatedly, until a loud _thud_ was produced, due to his body falling off of his bed in an ungraceful fashion.

"…ughh."

Rubbing the side of his head which was now throbbing enormously, Arthur glared at Francis and pulled himself off the floor to take a shower.

Stripping down idly, Arthur slipped into the shower and turned the knob on to "warm".

"Ahh…"

There's nothing like a warm shower in the morning to relax one's muscles for the day ahead.

Arthur's relaxing shower, however, was cut off by suggestively familiar _moans_ and _thumps_ against the wall beside him. Thinking he should be used to it by now, the layout of the dorms were inconvenient (for him, at least).

"…they just _had_ to make our showers _wall-to-wall_"

As the noises began to increase and become louder, and the thumping began to become harder and more frequent, Arthur found himself slightly ticked off (he was _not_ a morning person). He clenched his fist tightly, and slammed it hard on the bathroom wall, "…WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALREADY?"

Almost immediately, the noises died down, followed by muffled speech, (who he assumed was Matthew) "…W-w-we're so s-sorry!"

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly and stepped out of the shower to grab a towel to dry him.

At which point, the noises presumed.

After putting on some casual clothes and messing up his hair, he walked out of the bathroom only to find himself greeted with the scent of breakfast.

"…You cooked again?"

"_Oui,_ it is something I enjoy doing all the time."

"…well you're not bad at it. I'll give you that."

Arthur stretched up and sat down at the chair across Francis'.

A steaming plate of soup and crackers were placed in front of him.

"…soup."

"_Oui._"

"…for…_breakfast_?"

Francis blinked in surprise, "…is that not normal here?"

Arthur stared down at the bowl, then back to Francis, "…well, normally, one would have a bowl of cereal for breakfast…"

Francis pushed the bowl closer to Arthur, "It is pea soup. This is very good to eat in the morning."

Knowing already that Francis could cook exceptionally well; he shrugged it off and ate the meal.

"…not bad. Could we have it tomorrow morning, too?"

Francis beamed, "So you _do_ like it!"

He made a mental note of this in his head as Arthur's blush grew redder.

"Shush. I want seconds."

* * *

The four of them met outside the dormitory and made a unanimous decision to take the bus to the mall.

Checking for change, Francis had a small problem.

"…I have not changed my Euros to American dollars as of yet."

Senses perking up, Alfred yelled out, "Have no fear! I have the solution to all your problems! That's what heroes are for!" and then handed Francis a bus ticket.

"Oh! _Merci!_"

Arthur and Matthew groaned.

As group waited patiently at the bus stop, Arthur noticed Francis fumbling nervously with his ticket.

"Are you alright?"

"..Ah…_non_…"

Sensing that this was his first time, Arthur assumed that Francis had never used any alternative modes of transportation.

"…It's not difficult, you know. See where the arrow points down? You stick that end into the slot by the driver."

Francis nodded in understanding, and when the bus pulled up at the stop, Arthur urged him to go first.

The journey to the mall was a short one, luckily, the bus wasn't crowded, yet Arthur noticed Alfred hugging Matthew protectively in their seats. He found it sort of… _cute_.

Once they were at their stop, they hopped off the bus and walked into the mall.

Arthur spoke up, "So… where do you guys want to go fir-?"

"American Eagle!" Alfred interjected loudly, "I wanted to 'mall frog' with Mattie!"

Confused, Francis asked, "What is this, '_mall frog'?"_

Matthew turned to answer him, "It's something I taught him when we visited my family in Canada. You go into a mall with some friends, go into a bunch of different stores, pick out an outfit for them, and make them try it on. It's just for fun, but sometimes they'll actually buy the clothes."

Francis excitedly looked at Arthur, "It sounds interesting, we should try it, _oui_?"

Instantly sensing that he couldn't get out of this one, and it was unfairly three against one, Arthur replied, "Alright, I'm in."

* * *

Upon arriving at American Eagle, Francis stared at the sign, "…This is a popular shop?"

Alfred smiled brightly and patted him on the back, "It's made of pure win! It's bursting with America…and eagles!"

Matthew pulled Alfred away from a startled looking Francis, "Al…you do know that they don't _actually_ sell live eagles here, right?"

"…Y-yeah! Of course I did!"

Arthur stayed quiet and dragged them all into the store. The team split up after deciding that Arthur and Francis would find clothes for each other, and vice versa for the other two.

Arthur took a stroll through the men's section deep in thought at what Francis would wear. He finally settled for a pair of black bootcut jeans, and a solid red polo.

Francis on the other hand, had no trouble picking out a pair of blue slim jeans, green country-style shirt, and white-rimmed sunglasses. He always thought of himself as a fashionable person, in a non-narcissistic way, of course.

They met up in the center of the men's change rooms, where Francis and Alfred were the first to try out their outfits.

Stepping out, Alfred immediately proclaimed, "I'm buying it!"

To which Matthew replied, "You haven't even looked in the mirror yet!"

"But you chose it for me! So I'm buying it!"

Arthur couldn't contain his laughter, "_All _your clothes are picked out by Matthew."

"_That _is why I glow in awesomeness every single day!"

Not wanting to inflate his ego more than it should be, Arthur glanced towards Francis who was staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"…You don't like it, do you?"

Francis turned around to face him, "Not at all. You have a very good sense of fashion."

Arthur felt delighted at the compliment.

After trying on a few more clothes, they moved to a different store for more.

"…I'm not wearing it."

"Aw, C'mon Mattie! Please?"

"…no."

"Please?"

"…fine."

Matthew got changed, and stepped out of the change room.

"…pfft."

"...That's a dress."

"That's a floral dress."

"That is a _very_ flowery dress."

"…hmph."

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest, turned on his heel, and changed quickly back to his regular clothes.

Little did he know that Alfred was already paying for it at the front.

Arthur realized where this was going; he quickly yanked Francis with him to the hardware shop across, and bought a set of earplugs.

* * *

"Phew, I'm tired."

"Al? can you hold my bags for me, please?"

"…ugh…no…" Alfred whined, and stomped on the ground with childish behaviour.

"…Please? For me?"

Francis and Arthur watched the scene unfold before them.

"Al…"

Alfred closed his eyes shut and responded, "Don't you dare! I know exactly what you're doing!"

Sniffling, Matthew inched closer and clung to his arm, "What am I doing?"

"…You think you can make those adorable puppy dog eyes at me, and assume that I'll melt and do whatever you want. Well you can forget it. It's not gonna work on me."

Matthew released the hold on his arm before sighing sadly and waiting.

Francis whispered to Arthur, "…does this usually happen?"

"Oh yes, just watch. It's really very amusing." He pulled out a bag that he bought at a news stand and opened it, "…want some pre-popped popcorn?"

After a few seconds passed, Alfred slowly opened one eye, only to be greeted with Matthew's violet ones staring, centimetres away from his own.

"…Awh."

Matthew batted his eyelashes for effect.

At this point, Alfred lost control and smothered him closer.

"Fine, I'll do it. Only because I love you _that_ much."

Matthew giggled and held onto Alfred's arm once more.

"…That was…how would you say in English…'_dramatic_'"

Arthur sighed, "I suppose. You'll see this many times with them. Oh, and don't forget our earplugs. You'll need them tonight. Believe me."

They proceeded to eating lunch at the food court. Alfred bought a few hamburgers, before Matthew lectured him about his diet. Francis bought some salad to share with Arthur.

"…This is pretty good."

"I agree. Do you think you could make this at home?"

"…do you miss my cooking that much, _mon chéri_?"

Jumping at the term of endearment, Arthur stuttered as he felt a familiar heat creep onto his face.

"I-it's just t-that, it's better to eat homemade meals, rather than spending money to have it made for you."

Francis laughed, "If you say so, _che_r."

* * *

"Aww! Al! Look at the puppy! It looks just like Kuma!"

"Hey! It does!"

Now at a pet store, they split into pairs to browse around.

Arthur crouched down to peer into the cage of some white rabbits.

"…fluffy."

"_Oui_, they are. You like rabbits, Arthur?"

"…yeah…I had one when I was small. He ran away…"

Eyes softening, Francis gave Arthur a small hug, to which Arthur pushed away by reflex.

"Ah…s-sorry…"

"I-it's alright. It's all in the past now, anyways."

"…You could always buy a new one…"

"…Yeah, maybe…sometime in the future…"

"That would be nice."

They stood up and patted the dust off their pants.

"I think we should head out soon. The mall closes in about two hours."

"That is fine. Let's find Alfred and Matthew."

* * *

Walking towards the mall's exit, Alfred shouted before they could reach the doors, "Hey! Wait! Let's go there before we leave!"

He gestured towards a photo booth machine beside the mall's gaming centre.

"Come _on_! We _have_ to do this!"

Staring at yet another strange contraption, before Francis could ask, Arthur explained, "It's a Japanese photo booth. You take pictures, and draw on them on the tablet attached on the outside. We have an international friend who introduced it to us. He called them "purikura". You can also use them as stickers."

Intrigued, Francis decided "It would make a good souvenir of our day. We might as well."

After a few poses as a group, Alfred instructed Arthur and Francis to go ahead and draw on their pictures, as he went back into the booth to take a few "couple pictures" with Matthew.

Arthur waited impatiently for their photos to print, as well as Matthew to finish drawing on their separate pictures.

Their group photos came out first. Arthur picked up the sheet and smiled. It had been a while since he had this much fun with his friends. He moved to the table beside the booth and cut the pictures so it was divisible between the four of them.

He noticed the other set of photos in the slot, and picked them up. He made a face at the now blushing couple in front of him.

"…Is tha-"

"Yup!"

"…It's cute, huh?"

"…You're kissing. In a booth. Gee, how _romantic._" He coughed out.

Completely unable to read the atmosphere at the moment, Alfred dumbly spoke, "Mattie drew hearts on it!"

Alfred snatched the sheet from Arthur and cut them for himself and Matthew.

From the corner of his eye, Arthur noted Francis' solemn expression.

"…Hey, are you okay?"

Francis snapped out of his trance, and faked a smile.

"_Oui_, yes, I was just thinking, it would be nice to have someone to do that with…also."

Arthur didn't reply.

He inwardly thought to himself, "_…don't worry. You're not the only one._"

* * *

"…YOU LIVE IN A MANSION?" Alfred stared with wide eyes, his jaw dropped.

The group bussed back to their dorms and decided to hang out in Arthur and Francis' dorm for a while.

Francis sweat dropped. "Yes, but it belongs to my mother. Her residence is here in this city."

He quickly added, "…It would be nice if you all came to visit…"

Alfred smirked, "Then let's go! When are you free?"

Francis laughed at Alfred's enthusiasm, "Perhaps the day after tomorrow. After school."

"Sounds good to me! Artie! You're coming too, right?"

Arthur contemplated the situation. He would have the opportunity to visit a rich man's house. Emphasis on _rich_. It wouldn't be a bad idea, although the thought of comparing his pathetic life to this angered him slightly. He shook it off. "Of course. I'd like to see where someone like _you_ came from."

"Great! I shall call my mother as soon as possible. But for now, we may need to rest. It is a school night, after all."

"I agree."

Arthur escorted Matthew and Alfred to the door.  
"Oh! And before I forget! You don't have to worry about your desk tomorrow morning! We decided to give you a break."

He looked up at Alfred in suspicion, "…Oh, really?"

"Yeah! We'll be sleeping in anyways."

Still wary and hesitant, Arthur pushed the couple out the door, "Fine. I'll believe you this once."

* * *

Francis and Arthur got ready for bed, after eating leftover pea soup that Arthur now had a strange addiction to.

They heard a _thump._

Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, "…they're starting. Grab the earplugs. _Now._"

* * *

_"I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it's an enemy to thee."_


	7. Chapter 6

Unusually happy this morning, Arthur rolled out of bed and heaved a happy sigh. Today was going to be good; mostly because his regular routine would finally lack the standard molestation of his poor, innocent, unsuspecting desk. He noticed that Francis had left their dorm early; he assumed it was because of his early morning management classes. Arthur readied his things and felt his stomach grumble. Heading towards the kitchen, he found the table pre-set with a plate of food, and a note attached to a single rose in a skinny vase:

_"Good morning, Arthur!_

_I prepared breakfast for you before I left._

_See you later!_

_-Francis"_

He put the rose down and began to scarf down his breakfast. He was definitely going to have a great day.

Before leaving, Arthur refilled Pierre's water bowl and pet him gently then grabbed his keys and left.

On his way to homeroom, Arthur took time to appreciate the scenery, instead of thinking up the usual lecture he would have to use to his friends inside the building.

He walked slowly through the hallway, taking time to admire the comfortable silence that graced the ambiance.

Nevertheless, nothing could prepare him for what happened as he slammed the door open with an unusual smile.

"…"

"…"

This was probably a figment of his half asleep brain. He slammed the door shut, rubbed his eyes, and re-opened the passage. Nope, the image before him was pretty real.

"…What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"…Like, take a chill pill. You totally need to knock before entering, Arthur."

"…Feliks. I suggest you get off Toris' lap and my desk, before I force you both out the window."

"Gosh, Arthur, quit PMS-ing."

Arthur tried to compose himself.

"…Why in the world are you here?"

"…Al and Matt wanted to like, switch spots for the day. They said this was a totally great spot."

He made a mental note to kill Alfred for twisting his words later today. But right now, he had to deal with his other classmates who were currently refusing to leave.

"…Out. Now."

"...like, fine."

Feliks grabbed his terrified boyfriend by the arm and strut out the door.

Alright, so today was going to be great_-ish._

_

* * *

_

"...In this way we see the duality of character foils that occur in everyday life. Are we all clear on this topic?"

"Yes..." Arthur's literature class was unenthusiastic, but they all knew they needed this for their resumes.

"Arthur, please read out loud from where we left off in your report last class."

"Yes. '...Romeo's relation to love is not so straightforward. At the beginning of Shakespeare's play, Romeo is infatuated with Rosaline, proclaiming her as the epitome of women and despairing at her lack of sympathy toward him. As a whole, Romeo's Rosaline-induced emotional behaviour seems rather immature. Romeo is a huge student of love poetry, and the depiction of his love for Rosaline suggests he is attempting to rebuild the feelings that he has read about. After first kissing Juliet, she tells him [you kiss by th' book,] meaning that he kisses according to the rules, and implying that while capable, his kissing lacks originality.'"

"Good work. Please pass your paper up to my desk."

Arthur moved towards the front and placed his report into a pile marked "English Literature: Rm 105"

_Beep. Beep._

"Mr. Kirkland. Phone away, Please."

"Yes, sir. My apologies."

Setting his phone to vibrate, and sitting back in his seat, he noticed that he received a text message from an unknown number.

"_Hello! How is class?"_

He blinked a few times before replying.

"_...who is this, and how did you get my number?"_

The reply was fast, and simple.

"_It's Francis. I asked Alfred for your number before I left for class this morning. :)"_

Arthur absent-mindedly chuckled at the smiley.

"_You know, I'm in lit right now, right?"_

"_That must be fun, you must love reading."_

"_...more than most things, I can assure you."_

"_Management class is fun. It's the homework that I dislike :("_

"_That's life. Suck it up and move on ;)"_

"_I shall. Anyways, I will meet you, Alfred, and Matthew for lunch after class."_

"_Sure, no prOBBsdjfkl;;kk."_

On the other side of the school, Francis stared at the strange text message and decided that this may not be the best time to reply.

And at the same time ironically, Arthur stared up at his lit professor awkwardly.

"Texting during class will not be tolerated, Mr. Kirkland. You will have your cell phone returned to you when class ends."

"Yes, sir..."

Teachers can be so uptight now a days.

* * *

After class, Arthur went to the cafeteria in search of his friends, and some lunch.

He filled his tray and looked around, spotting a familiar mess of hair by the outside lunch area.

Arthur slammed his tray of food hard on the table.

"...I want an explanation."

Quivering in his seat, Alfred began, "...we didn't lie to you _technically_. I said _we_ wouldn't bother you at your desk."

"But you let _other_ people do so?" He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the couple.

Just then, he felt a hand firmly grip his shoulder, "Arthur, it is a simple miscommunication, you must forgive them."

"Francis, you wouldn't be so forgiving if you caught them lip locking at your desk every morning."

"...They are just expressing their love."

"...well they're expressing it all over my learning area!"

"Come on, tonight we will go out. My management professor suggested a karaoke bar a block away from here. What do you say?"

"...bar?"

"Yes, a _karaoke_ bar."

"Let's go."

* * *

"_...Sleepin' the grey flannel life  
But when he turns off to sleep memories creep,  
More-more-more..."_

Francis' sang, and much to Arthur's surprise, he was very good at it.

He crossed on leg over the other and took a gulp of his light beer.

"_Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?_

_...Creole Lady Marmalade Yes-ah..."_

As he finished, he turned to the big screen behind him and awaited his score.

They heard an electronic voice speak up; "_Player 2: 88 Points._"

Arthur leered in Francis' general direction, "..Ha!..._hic!..._this thing i-..._hic!_...rigged..."

Francis took his seat beside Arthur, "You think you can do better?"

"O-..._hic!_...course!"

Flipping through the song directory, Arthur laughed when he noticed a song he knew very well. He inserted the song number into the computer and waited for his cue to start.

"_In my dreams  
your kiss has never tasted so real  
everyday  
I can see your face  
it's so clear  
this hook was baited  
to know you existed  
and I hope I was listed  
cause I've prayed to have  
someone like you in my life  
I thank God that He told you"_

"...beautiful..." Francis gasped breathlessly.

Staring attentively at Arthur, he secretly wished that this moment could go on forever.

_"I've been waiting for this moment  
to have you next to me  
to dance with  
under the moon and the stars  
and open sky  
we should  
dance forever till we can't stand  
to stand on our feet  
cause we're together and  
you're not just in my dreams"_

Francis felt his heart beating faster.

Just watching Arthur; each note emitted sweetly from his lips.

There was no doubt, what he was feeling at the heat of the moment was purely, honestly, _real.  
_

_"Before you  
I felt my life was drained dry  
broken  
like desert sand  
where there's no ins or outs  
no sustenance, yeah  
you're like rushing water  
from oceans and seas  
refreshing my thirst in the sand  
and you see your presence  
is evidence God is real  
no need to sleep to feel"_

Was it love? No, he concluded. These feelings were strong, yes. But what in the world was happening to him?

Arthur's song ended, and faded into the room.

The air in the area suddenly crackled with a soft tension.

Before he had time to react, Francis walked up to Arthur and lightly kissed him on the lips.

"_Player 1: 98 Points."_

The voice quickly snapped Francis out from his trance. Surprised at himself, he was glad Arthur passed out the second after the kiss because of his intolerance to massive amounts of alcohol.

He looked down at Arthur's sleeping face, with a look of confusion and hinted with a bit of something else he could not yet put his finger on. What exactly was going on?

...and so, Romeo pursues his Juliet.

* * *

"_Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I never saw true beauty till this night"_


	8. Chapter 7

Arthur huffed in bed, unable to prevent the hammer behind his eyes from slamming and pounding continuously every half second. After last night, he came to the obvious conclusion that downing eleven shots in the first half hour of their karaoke session was a very bad idea. Around the time he could even bring himself out of bed, he felt a piercing pain in his lower regions. Thanking whoever designed his dorm, he was more than happy that the bathroom was right beside his bed. Arthur's toilet alternatively, did not share the same happy emotion when Arthur bent over and coughed up the products of his last night activities.

In the kitchen, Francis was suddenly alerted by Arthur's raspy coughing from their bathroom. Quickly filling a glass of lukewarm water, he made his way to the toilet and patted Arthur comfortingly on the back. Handing Arthur the glass of water, Francis jerked away rapidly remembering the embarrassing (and not to mention awkward) events of last night.

"…Here, drink this. It will make your stomach feel better."

Arthur took a slow sip and massaged the side of his head, "…ugh…must've…had…too much…"

Francis opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it and decided to take the safe route.

"…Do you remember anything?"

Closing his eyes in frustration, Arthur took a deep breath while still clutching on to the toilet for support.

"…I drank…we sang…I blacked out…I woke up in bed with this _fucking_ hangover."

Knowing that it was an awful thing to think, Francis thanked the heavens that Arthur could not remember much of anything past singing yesterday evening. Maybe now they could get back to normal, or rather, as normal as possible, until he gets his facts and feelings figured out and organized.

"Do you think you will be able to make the trip today?"

"…what tri-…oh, yeah… you're place, right? just give me some painkillers, and I'll be good."

Nodding, Francis turned to walk away, _"…I'm just worried, cher…"_

"Huh? Did you say something?"

Francis forced a smile and continued to walk, "_Non, _nothing important."

Arthur shrugged before continuing to grasp the toilet seat, "Suit yourself."

* * *

A half hour later, Arthur came out looking a little backed up, but better than before. He noticed Francis putting a side of wrapped presents near the door.

"Is it someone's birthday?"

Francis replied without meeting Arthur's gaze.

"_non."_

"…Special event?"

"_non."_

"Communists outside?"

"_non."_

"…Are you a man?"

"_no-…hey!"_

Smirking, Arthur stifled a laugh, "Just joking, chill out."

"Well, I see that_ you_ are feeling much _better_, _oui?_"

"It happens, I get used to it."

"Too much of a good thing is not healthy…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know."

More bags where placed with the ones already at the door. Francis stretched his arms, "There. We are set. Oh, and before I forget, we will be spending the night over there."

"That's fine. I always have an overnight bag packed for whenever."

"Then we are ready to go. Shall we call our _beloved couple next door?_"

Arthur made a face, "…ugh. Do we have to? I'm still angry at Alfred's little word twist. But, I suppose we can show _some_ mercy today and wake them up."

Francis opened the mesh door of Pierre's cage as the small bird hopped off its perch and onto his arm, making his way to Francis' shoulder. The poor little thing would "_cheep_" non-stop if they stayed away for too long. The solution, Arthur suggested, was to bring him along on the trip.

"…So, where exactly will he be sleeping?"

"My mother has dug up and prepared his old cage from the basement."

Arthur mentally slapped himself. Of course he'd have a cage over there; Pierre lives where ever Francis does. Feeling his face grow red in embarrassment, Arthur grabbed his overnight bag and walked straight for the door. Anyways, the sooner they left, the sooner they would be back.

Knocking on the door beside them, a rustle of random objects and angry voices clashed together until the door finally opened revealing a very tired, disorderly couple.

Alfred was the first of the two to speak up, "G'morning guys!"

They all said their greetings and shared random unimportant small talk before Francis led them down to the parkade.

What awaited them at the entrance was a very impressive black-polished, limousine.

All except Francis stared at the motor vehicle, mouths wide in shock.

Alfred nudged Matthew, "…make it number two on our list."

"…under Arthur's des-"

"Yes. Right under it."

Arthur, too distracted by the car to even hear the conversation, quickly grabbed his luggage and shoved it in the trunk, assisting Francis with all the other bags.

The interior of the limo was just as impressive. Separated into two halves, Francis insisted that Alfred and Matthew take the back half of the automobile (for _obvious_ reasons), while Francis and Arthur take the front.

Once everyone was securely strapped in, their one hour trip began.

* * *

So far, the journey was a peaceful one. Francis assured Arthur that he made sure to request the sound proof limo, in order to block out the suggestive_ disturbances_. Arthur looked to his left, noticing Francis asleep; leaning against the window with Pierre nestled comfortably in his hair for a nap.

Without making a sound, Arthur pulled out his cell phone, and took a picture.

Francis moved a bit, but settled down (Arthur quickly shoving his phone into his pocket) after a reflex to the camera's shutter.

Staring out the window, Arthur took notice in the gradual change of scenery. From a busy city with loads of traffic and forests of buildings and fast food places, to a rural area filled with open air, bountiful trees, lakes, wild life, it was all so…_contrasting_.

Even so, he found the two settings very fitting for each other. Without one, the other would cease to exist. Very profound thoughts would always cross his mind when he had absolutely nothing to do for long periods of time.

Arthur heard a slight shuffling noise to his left. Yawning, Francis greeted Arthur with a smile, "Are you enjoying the trip so far?"

Arthur let his head rest sleepily on Francis' shoulder, "…it's not bad, actually. Although, I'm starting to doubt your limo. I swear, for the past five minutes I believe _they've_ been breaking your sound barrier with someone's constant shouting."

Feelings of bewilderment starting to rise up, Francis pushed Arthur lightly off his shoulder and passed him a pillow. "Here, this is better."

Arthur shook his head, "It's alright, I'm not that tired anyways." Instead, he lifted his hand to Francis head and lifted Pierre off his head.

"Poor baby, he's completely tired out…" Arthur cooed softly to the bird, "…you remind me very much of my late rabbit…"

Francis let his eyes memorize the scene before him. Reminiscing of the feelings of confusion he had since that night. Perhaps he would sort it out soon, hopefully.

* * *

Upon arriving, to the bottom of a hill, the limo drove up for about ten minutes and turned, parking at the entrance of Francis' home.

The first thing that caught Arthur's eyes was the gigantic height of the mansion. Statues at every corner, many plants, and a fountain dead set in the centre of the "yard". The chauffeur opened both passenger sides of the limo, as the group stepped out and once again stood in awe at what they saw.

Almost out of perfect timing, a woman who looked well aged approached them.

"Hello, Francis."

"Mother, it is nice to see you again."

"Please, take your guests and baggage inside. I would very much like to meet everyone."

She gave them a friendly smile, and led them into the main foyer of the estate.

The woman carefully examined each stranger at her door.

"I am Mrs. Bonnefoy, Francis' mother. It is nice to meet you."

To Arthur's surprise, Alfred and Matthew had no trouble at all with their introductions, even going so far as to proclaim their status as a couple.

"How sweet! I will make sure to provide you with a shared room."

Now, it was Arthur's turn. He really wasn't nervous, honest. And that drum-like sound, that wasn't his heart racing a mile a minute, really!

"My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am a friend of your son; I am also his dorm mate at school. It's very nice to meet you."

Mrs. Bonnefoy smiled sweetly and replied, "It is a pleasure meeting you, Arthur."

She then turned to Francis, "Dear, why don't you show your friends around the house? I will have their bags put into their rooms and prepare a meal." With that, she left.

Once she was out of sight, Francis looked to his friends, "Shall I start with a tour of the garden?"

* * *

Now, when one says "garden" one would assume a small patch of green, a few pots of flowers here and there, maybe a lawn gnome, _maybe_.

However, in this situation, "garden" would be a total understatement.

Francis' garden was a hefty couple acres, adorned with tri-colour roses in blue, white, and red.

"…A-amazing…" Arthur stood breathless against the picture perfect landscape.

Francis looked out towards the vast prospect, a slight breeze brushing against them.

"It took both me and my mother about three years to complete it."

"Are those polar bears?" Matthew squeaked out, flailing his arm excitedly towards a topiary bear made entirely of white roses.

And, before Francis could answer, Alfred dragged Matthew in the direction behind said polar bear, shouting out, "Well meet with you later! Go on ahead!"

Francis laughed, "Those two will jump at it, every chance they get."

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed, "...Of course. So, where to now?"

"I have a library upstairs, if you wish to see."

Almost bursting in a full smile, Arthur slammed a fist against his palm, "That would be great!"

* * *

"This. Is. So. Fucking-"

"..Epic?" Francis finished.

"You've been hanging around Alfred and Matthew way too much."

Francis pushed the bookcase ladder towards Arthur, "Here, have a look. You may keep any book you like."

"R-r-really?"

"_Oui._"

Arthur climbed the ladder as Francis pushed from the bottom until he found a few books he liked.

"A few from Shakespeare's collection?"

"Yes, they've always been my favourite to study in literature; Comedy, tragedy, a mix of both. It's enthralling."

"Then you may keep them. I have read those books many times myself, they have always made me think."

They looked at the clock as a loud chime echoed through the library.

"We should head to the dining room now. I predict that my mother has already prepared our meals."

* * *

"Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Bonnefoy." Alfred and Matthew said in unison.

"Yes, it was very good. Thank you." Arthur sipped the last of his water.

"No problem! I am glad you like it!"

Mrs. Bonnefoy remained quiet for a moment before speaking up, "Francis, may I speak to you in the living room for a moment?"

Blinking a few times, Francis nodded.

There were very few times he had to meet with her like this, often because he did something wrong, or broke that expensive vase in her room…again.

"Yes, mother."

She gestured for Francis to take a seat on the couch across from her.

"So, you've made very nice friends at school!"

"_Oui_, they are always very nice to m-."

"Arthur."

Francis blushed and stuttered at his mother's sudden interjection.

"Q-quoi?"

"That nice British boy. You seem to have taken quite a liking to him, specifically."

He gave up. There was no point arguing with his mother. She always knew what was going on in his head, world…heart.

"I know…my feelings for him are strong. However, I do not know what it is I am feeling."

"It's love, of course."

A bit taken back, Francis stood up and blushed hard.

"Mother!"

She simply smiled at her son.

"You may be confused with your feelings now, but it is a mother's intuition. You are in _love_ with Arthur."

He sat back down and slumped, "…but, how do you know?"

And, with soft loving eyes, she smiled at him, "You stare at him, the exact same way I stare at your father."

* * *

"_Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.__"_


	9. Chapter 8

"Love…**love**…_love_…lo-ve?" No matter how many times Francis said it; it was still very much a foreign sentiment to him. Lying down on his old bed, he watched as Pierre flew in circles above his head. And, no matter how "cute" it looked, it did _not_ distract him from his current train of thought. Francis knew his mother was never wrong about things; after all, she did raise him.

"I…Love…Arthur…?" he let the words roll off his tongue. This feeling was new, _mystifying_; it made his heart race, and his head spin. Francis had transferred to many schools throughout his life. Sure, he had gone on a few dates; one night stands, and had a couple of high school sweethearts here and there. But never _once_ had he experienced this emotion with any of them. He closed his eyes. What made Arthur so special?

He couldn't sleep. Now awake at three in the morning, Francis stood up from his bed and walked over to pick up Pierre who was now exhausted and snuggled in a puff of feathers deep into the plush carpet in the corner of his room, and placing him in his cage. The troubled expression on his face quite evident, Francis decided to leave his room and wander around his house to clear his head. Being on the fifth floor wasn't _too_ bad, for the most part, the empty halls were silent, except for the occasional bumping and grinding ricocheting from inside Alfred and Matthew's guest room at the end of the corridor.

Francis walked into his study room across the empty guest room in the middle. Turning on the lights, he smiled to himself, remembering all the memories he spent inside the room as a child. He took a seat in his old desk and let his hand brush over the aged wood. Francis drummed his fingers on the surface of the bureau in a symmetrical rhythm. He looked to his left and saw his old pen set and some paper. Francis was instantly reminded of Arthur's "_top ten_" list. Maybe, he would make his own. Sliding the fresh sheet of paper towards him, Francis dipped a calligraphy pen in black ink and started:

_1. Must not mind me clinging to them._

_2. Must like my cooking._

_3. Must be my friend first._

_4. Must be cute._

_5. Must let me love them to the fullest._

_6. Must always let us be together_

_7. Must be on their mind several times a day._

_8. Must not mind my French._

_9. Must be willing to wait for me._

Blank. Chewing on the back end of his pen, Francis thought hard. He covered all the important things he wanted in a lover, right?

He placed his pen back on its stand and folded the piece of paper before putting it in his pocket. Maybe he'd think of something to fill in the last spot, later.

Getting up from his seat, Francis strolled out of his study and back into the hallway. He noticed a light glowing from the third floor. He stealthily tip toed down the spiral staircase, and saw that Arthur's room was slightly open, with the light still on.

Francis walked carefully to the door, and peered inside, pushing the entrance to that he could see. He held his breath. Then released. What he saw was a pleasant scene; Arthur lay asleep on his bed, with one of the books Francis had given him earlier open on his chest. Francis assumed he drifted off in the middle of reading.

"_Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet'". _

Francis tilted his head to the side. Arthur really did love this book. He would often see Arthur borrowing a copy from the library back at school. At least now he would save himself the trip because he had his own.

Kneeling down beside Arthur's head, Francis stared. Yes, this was a bit creepy, just like in that one movie. But he concluded that he wasn't as sinister as that pallid vampire. Francis watched as Arthur's breath steadied and slowed as he slept; back at their dorm, he had never paid much attention to such a minor detail. He carefully manoeuvred himself, so that his elbow was propped on the bed, as he leaned his head on his hand. He whispered quietly.

"So, what makes you so different? Why does it have to be an average person like you? And a _boy_ nonetheless?"

Francis brushed a stray hair away from Arthur's face. Maybe he _did_ like and/or love Arthur. But what difference would it make? As Francis slowly came to terms with his feelings, he also slowly realized that Arthur may not even return them.

"…How troublesome…"

Francis jumped back and looked at the shadow behind him. "M-mother?"

He bounded to his feet and dusted himself off, "…H-how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough. I have always predicted for you to be like me. Falling in love so quickly. But your loyalty to the other makes up for it."

Looking at the floor, Francis lowered his eyes, "…I do think I love him."

She lifted his face to meet eye-to-eye, "I know. But, if you wish to pursue him, I will pay no mind. However, if you do succeed in steadying a relationship, I _will_ have to tell your father. You _know_ how he will react."

Francis winced. He never was close to his father, even as a small boy. Always scolding him, pressuring him to finish work, he piled loads upon Francis in hopes that one day he could take over the family business. On top of that, his father arranged hundreds of potential mergers; all of which, Francis declined. That was what he loathed most of all. He wanted to be with someone who would love him for _him_. Not for just simply combining companies for status and power. He remembered breaking down and crying at night, running away from home many_ countless times._ As he grew older, he learned to bottle up all his anguish and anger. When his father forced him to attend college in America, he refused but went anyway purely to appease his father. That, was all he wanted. Acceptance. Love. Someone to be proud of him. He had originally planned to end _everything_ upon arriving at the school. That is, until an odd (supposedly) prim and proper British school boy dropped right into his arms.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he noticed that his mother had left.

"…Falling from the heavens, hmm?" Francis joked to himself, "…_Oui_, a _Britannia angel_…"

He shut off the light in Arthur's room, before giving him one last look, and closing the door. There was one thing on his mind now; courting Arthur. Conversely, there was a problem; a _major_ problem. He did not know how to go about coaxing his stubborn friend into going out with him. He needed help. He needed experts; People who knew Arthur for _years_, and knew exactly what he should do in order to win him over. Fortunately for him, he had those people.

* * *

Francis stood at Alfred and Matthew's bed room door. Praying that they would be awake at this hour, he knocked three times.

A ruffling sound was heard before the door creaked open to reveal a very worn out and drained, Alfred. He leaned on the doorframe and rubbed one eye, "…Hey…what's up?"

Francis knew he had to confront these two about his _issue_, although, it sounded like a better plan in his head. Oh well, he was already there anyway.

"…I need your help."

Alfred raised a tired eyebrow, "…With what?"

Taking a deep breath, Francis replied, "…I think I like Arthur."

The two stood silent for a moment, before Alfred broke in,  
"…'Like'…as in…you _love-_like him?"

Francis nodded, "_Oui._ I do."

Turning around, Alfred smirked at Matthew who was now awake and _trying_ to get off the bed, "…Mattie, dear, you owe me five dollars."

* * *

"…_P-pourquoi_? You bet against me?"

"Well," Alfred admits, "I bet _on_ you."

The three of them sat on the large bed, the discussion going nowhere so far.

Matthew snuggled closer to Alfred before getting serious, "We kind of figured you'd end up crushing on him. Also, it seems that Arthur _might _like you, but as stubborn as we all know he is, he won't admit it to himself."

This piqued Francis' interest, "…He might? How can you tell?"

"It's obvious…"Matthew adjusted his glasses, "…he's never tolerated anyone living so close to him for this long."

"What should I do? I do not know how to ask him out."

Alfred pat him on the shoulder, "Don't worry. We've got a plan." Grabbing his bag, he shuffled through until pulling out a notebook and some writing implements.

"…Time for our game plan."

Each one of them took a pen and brainstormed random ideas. During the heat of jotting notes down, Francis slyly took out the folded paper list from his earlier scene, and wrote:

_10. Must be Arthur._

_

* * *

_

"_This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,  
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet."_


	10. Chapter 9

_Alfred sat up straight and shoved the scheme-filled notebook into Francis' hands. After about an hour of sketching ideas onto a blank canvas of nothingness, it was a miracle that at least one of them had something to input. _

_He smirked, "Heroes always __have a plan!" _

_Francis let his eyes amble through an awkward mess of chicken scratch and poorly drawn doodles. One thing in particular caught his eye. _

"…_Light show?"_

_Alfred shot him a thumbs up before explaining, "It'll be the start of winter break once we get back, and there's an annual light show that goes on during then. The way I see it, you could ask Arthur to the show, look around a bit; but act normal. Then when the timing's right, ask him if he'd actually consider you two dating."_

_A very shocked Matthew condescendingly ruffled Alfred's hair, "You actually have a pretty decent plan this time! I'm so proud of you!" To which Alfred pouted, "I have plenty of brilliant ideas! Remember that one time you were sick, so I had to tutor and babysit your cousin Peter?"_

_Francis pondered the scene before him._

"…_You tried to teach him history."_

"_And it was great!"_

"…_You convinced him that I was from 'Planet Canada', located hovering over Europe; our official language was 'Canadian'; and that you 'milk' beavers to get maple syrup."_

"…_o-oops?"_

"_Yeah, exactly."_

_

* * *

_

Thinking back to the moment, Francis laughed quietly to himself. If he wanted to ask Arthur out, he better do it as soon as he had the opportunity.

"…Sir, all your bags are put into the limo. Please gather your guests to the front; we will be leaving shortly."

"Thank you, I will go get them now."

Walking into the house, he found Arthur right away, sitting on the end of the spiral staircase. Francis also found that Alfred and Matthew were not with him, let alone anywhere within the foyer.

"Arthur? Where ar-"

Rubbing his temples signifying irritation, he said nothing but pointed directly to a very large empty doghouse in the eastern garden.

"Oh, I see. Should I go get them?"

"…yes. Please."

Walking outside to the garden, he noticed Pierre perched on top, half asleep, and squawking madly at the vibrations gyrating from within the doghouse.

Francis knocked lightly on the roof, "_Bonjour, mes amis! _We need to leave now. Also, there is a possibility that you are giving Arthur a migraine at this point."

The two crawled out, Alfred carrying an exhausted Matthew bridal style back into the house.

Before Francis could wake up Pierre, Alfred, Matthew and Arthur were already on their way, walking down the steps and into their seats. After a brief good bye to Francis' mother, and the exchange of several parting gifts, they were on their way back home.

The drive back to their dorms was a tedious one; Francis, more nervous around Arthur than ever, had a hard time with the smallest of conversations. Every time he looked at Arthur, all he could see was this overly cute boy, clouds surrounding him, golden lining, doves flying, hallelujah angel choir; the works.

"It was nice of mother to give us French baguettes; I'll be able to make us different dishes now."

"…I'm sure anything you make will be good."

"…"

"…"

_Oh, merde._

Now surrounded by an awkward silence, they reached their destination without any eye contact whatsoever; something that Francis was _very_ glad for, that made it possible for him to shade his obvious panic. Finally turning and settling into the parking lot, their chauffeur tiredly unloaded their bags and brought them up to their dorms. Before going inside, Alfred gave Francis a signaling wink that clearly said; "hurry up and ask him, or we'll have to go with plan _B."_

_

* * *

_

Arthur dumped his bags at the foot of his bed and sprawled himself on the mattress, breathing in an all too familiar scent.

"It's really good to be home," He nuzzled into his pillow; "…I really missed my old bed."

Eyes cautiously watched Arthur, Francis wishing he was anywhere else but here. He knew he had to do this, however, and if he missed this chance to ask him, he would surely regret it in the future.

"_Don't make the same mistake I made…_" Matthew's words replayed in his mind.

Gathering all the courage he had, Francis sat on his bed and faced Arthur.

"…Would you like to go to the light show with me, during winter break?" He closed his eyes tight, and braced himself for the worst.

"Sure, I'd love to g-"

"-I understand. I would have not agre- -wait, you will go?"

Arthur innocently cocked his head to the left and blinked, "Yeah, sounds like fun."

Francis excitedly jumped to his feet and clapped, "_Très bien!_ I cannot wait!"

Arthur felt the heat rise to his face; he'd been doing that a lot lately, and strangely enough, it only occurred when Francis was around. He stuttered.

"…Y-y-yeah…me too. W-wait! Where are you going?"

Taking note of Francis hurriedly shoving his coat on, he couldn't help but be suspicious. Francis had to think of an excuse quick; if he blew his cover, his _mentors_ would not forgive him.

"…I will go buy a cup of coffee!"

"We _have_ coffee right _here!_"

He panicked.

"…I feel like spending money!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Then I'll go with you."

Francis grabbed Arthur's shoulders and turned him to the direction of his bed.

"_Non,non_. You must still be tired from our trip. Sleep. Rest. _Bonsoir_."

Distinguishing the fact that he could not win the situation, Arthur gave up.

"Fine, I'll sleep. You rich people; flaunting your money like it's toilet paper at a public washroom. despicable!" He said teasingly, "…go ahead, and enjoy your coffee."

When he was sure that Arthur was asleep, he hastily opened the door and knocked on Alfred and Matthew's.

_Panting_.

_Moaning._

_Groaning after hearing someone at the door; indication of bad timing._

He'd have to apologize for the inconvenience later.

Alfred swung the door open, "WHAT THE FU- -oh, hey. What's up?"

Francis smirked, "He said yes."

Returning the gesture, Alfred opened the door and pointed to an empty seat in their dining area.

"Get in."

* * *

"So he actually agreed?" Matthew walked in and placed three cups of coffee on the table.

"_Oui_. We will be going together during the break."

"Hot damn, you play pretty good match…" Alfred took a gulp, "…But, you'll have to step up your game; this is, after all, _Arthur_ you're trying to date. And with his short temper and hard headed attitude, I'm surprised you'd even want _him_ in the first place."

"Al! That's rude!" Matthew hissed, and punched him lightly on the arm.

He held both hands up in defense, "But it's _true_!"

Scrunching his face in annoyance, Matthew changed the subject, "Let's go over some ground rules so you don't end up scaring him by the end of the day."

"Shall I take notes?" Francis jokingly flipped a pen on the table with his fingers.

His advisors on the contrary, did not find this to be a laughing matter.

"Yes, you should." They echoed in accord.

Immediately, Francis pulled out a small loose scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and waited for either Alfred or Matthew to dictate important points.

"Alright," Alfred commenced, "treat this as a casual hang out; to test the waters a bit; see if he's even the smallest bit interested in you."

"Yes," Matthew continued, "make sure you don't push it over the edge by asking him right away."

"_Oui._ I understand." There would be many things to remember on the day of.

A few more rules and regulations later, Francis had almost no more room on his note. He also confused himself, taking different advice; switching between Alfred and Matthew. He'd been spending so much time with them that they began to look vaguely similar; almost like _twins._

"…okay, any questions? Concerns? Praises of admiration and undying gracious thanks to the hero?"

Francis sighed and chewed nervously on the back of the pen, "…If we are going during winter break, and the location is far, we may have to stay in a hotel. But I cannot bring Pierre with me. That is a problem."

"We can look after him!" Matthew volunteered happily, "Kumajiro usually guards the dorm while we're out; Pierre will be safe!"

"Ah! _Merci!_ If it is not too much trouble for the both of you. I am very grateful."

"It's what I do!" Matthew rolled his eyes; Alfred stretched and yawned, "…Hey dude, you've been here for over three hours. I think you should be getting back unless you want him breaking down our door and revealing our master plan."

"I have not been minding the time! I will catch up with you both later! Thank you for all the help! _Au revoir!_"

And with that, Francis swished out of the room and into his own dorm.

"Well that was nice." Matthew finished the last of his coffee, "I hope everything works out between them."

"Yeah, me too."

Matthew looked at Alfred suspiciously. "…Really, now?" it wasn't so common that his boyfriend showed much or any interest in their best friend's antics, let alone his love life. Obviously, he had _way_ too much caffeine today.

"Think about it. Arthur's only light on us when Francis is around. If they start dating, that could score us major _location points_."

"…you don't mea-"

"yep. We could _time share_ the desk, sweetheart."

"…that actually sounds…good…" Matthew contemplated.

"Also, you've always wanted us to double date, right? We could go with them; and we could split the bill! Saving us loads of money for our _other expenses_…"

Matthew felt a hand trail up his inner thigh as he shivered.

"…you've been spending _way_ too much time paying attention in math class for once."

"Well, Mr. Zwingli always taught us…" His hand now raised and resting on Matthew's crotch, "…saving money is _fabulous_."

* * *

Back in his own dorm, he noticed Arthur at the table, cup of tea in hand, glaring at him.

"…It takes you three hours to buy and drink a cup of coffee…?"

Francis laughed awkwardly, "…T-there was a long line, I had to wait."

As Arthur finished his tea, he decided that pushing further for any more information would not get them anywhere, and prove meaningless. He instead, refilled two teacups and offered one to Francis.

"Try it."

He looked warily into the mixture, a swirl of orange liquid and grey-ish black herbs floating on top.

"…Is this even…edible?"

Arthur choked on his tea.

"O-of course it is! Just drink it. Now."

Cautiously bringing the beverage to his lips, he allowed savoured its unique taste. A tart, tangy flavour touched his senses, coupled with a hinted mix of orange and lemon; not too sweet, not too strong either.

Before he knew it, he had finished it. Setting the cup back down on the table, he let the new taste linger for a few moments before dying down.

"…It is pretty good."

_That_ compliment appeared to make Arthur especially happy; Francis indistinctly remembering something Matthew and Alfred had strictly emphasized for him to commit to memory about any of Arthur's _"culinary disasters"_.

Francis supposed that these tiny quirks he noticed here and there upon meeting Arthur were things he could get used to and learn to adore more. The way he stuttered when he tried to cover up an obvious mistake, the way he would curse and swear yet call himself a perfect gentleman, and the mysterious way he made Francis fall, head over heels and back again. The question he knows still stays behind; could he be "_the_ _one"_?

Absolutely.

He concluded; it was at _that_ time; when they were simultaneously on the verge of wiping out their identities, for the way soul met soul; falling. Eyes met eyes; blue met green, making them almost, if not fully, _perfect_.

* * *

"_An hour before the worshipp'd sun  
Peered forth the golden window of the east."_


	11. Chapter 10

After what seemed to be an _eternity_ of waiting, winter break finally started, and Francis was beyond nervous. Alas, here they were; another rented limo, bags re-packed, and on their way far uptown to see the light show.

Francis' nerves settled at last, when Arthur broke the silence by conversing about arbitrary things. School talk, gossip, plans for the break (of which both of them did _not_ have, and Francis hopefully _planning_ to.), of course, that all depends on whether his potential other agrees to his proposal.

An irritating _beep_ blared during the heat of their discussion, as Francis pulled out his phone only to be graced with his screen saying "_You've got mail_".

Upon opening said text message, he stared, capital letters all but destroying the limited space on his phone's screen.

"HEY. IT'S AL. R U RDY?"

Francis felt his eye twitch at the short–cut message. He always found it annoying when words were not used properly. He replied.

"_Oui_, Arthur and I are driving there right now. So far, so good."

"THAT'S GOOD. KAY. HERE'S MATT."

Francis had to scroll down a long line of uppercase letters until he reached Matthew's section of the text.

"…Sorry about that, I gave him too much maple candy today. Anyways, remember to keep everything leveled. You want to build up to the moment when it feels right to ask. Good luck."

Noticing Francis laugh to himself, and his cell phone, Arthur became genuinely curious.

"…Who's that?"

He shocked himself. Since when did he _ever_ care about Francis' business? It wasn't like him to be envious of anyone he talked to. _At all_.

"…Ah, Matthew gave Alfred too much candy; he is on a…ah…what is it called..? Sugar rush! _Oui_. He is on a sugar rush."

Strange, why would they text Francis just to tell him a random tidbit of their day. Whatever, it wasn't his problem. He wasn't angry, or upset. After all, they were just talking amongst themselves when they were _rudely interrupted_. That's life, right? He didn't care; nope! Did not mind one bit. And he was absolutely, positively, _not. Jealous._

_

* * *

_

They arrived at their hotel moments later, and put their belongings beside their beds. Arthur grabbed some of the free shampoos and conditioners offered by the coffee table.

"…I'm going to take a shower."  
_"Oh," Francis dug through a bag, "…here, I brought our shampoo from our dorm."_

Arthur waved the bottles off, "It's alright, I'll just use these. They're better."

"What makes them better? They are all, still soap in bottles!" Francis made a confused face at Arthur.

"Of course they're better! They're _free._" And with that, he did a sharp spin and walked straight into the bathroom.

When he was sure that Arthur had turned the tap on, he leaned over and picked up the hotel phone to call Alfred and Matthew.

"…H-hello?" a quiet voice _whimpered_ through the end of the line; he assumed was Matthew's.

"…_Bonjour! _It is Francis. We have made it to the hotel. Arthur is taking a shower right now."

"O-ooh, that's good. T-the light show is tomorrow, right? T-then, everything should mmph..! –Al! Stop that! I'm on th-Ahn! p-phone! –g-go well…"

"Ah, alright then." Francis assumed that this may not have been the best time to call, as he heard rustling, followed by a faint _"Mattie! Get off the phone! Or I'll take you right here, right now!"_

Sensing the awkwardness filling the conversation, Francis chuckled, "Say hello to Alfred for me, and enjoy yourselves! Good bye now."

"Y-yes! I will, Bye!"

_Click._

He smiled to himself. It'd be nice if Arthur said yes, and they could date. Every time he thought of his two other friends, it made him envious; he had wanted for so long to have a healthy, stable, _real_, relationship.

He heard the water shut off, and the door open slightly; but no Arthur.

"…H-hey. Could you pass me my clothes? They're in my luggage…"

Francis blushed. Well, well, well, now _this_ was going to be embarrassing. He made his way to Arthur's bag and pulled out a set of clean clothes. He slowly walked to the bathroom door, looked the opposite way, and stuck his hand; as well as the clothing, into the door. In less than a second, he took the apparel, pushed Francis's hand out, and shut the door.

Out came a muffled, "T-thanks…"

Inside, Arthur leaned on the door; heavily breathing, face completely red—not from the steam of the shower, but because he was close to someone that made him feel that stupid strange emotion.

Outside, Francis equally leaned on the door, face in palm, trying to control his breathing. Now _that _was close. Although, he though, how cute would it be to see him from behind this barrier? Completely bare, and his body flushed from that steamy hot showe-

Francis shook his head vigorously, trying to shake that perverse image from his mind. How could he help it? He had _just_ turned twenty! Yet, his mind still harbored the thoughts of an average hormonal teenage boy.

Tomorrow, he knew, was going to take_ a lot _of self control.

* * *

The next day, both Francis and Arthur forced themselves to wake up at six in the morning; the line for the show was a long one, and they wanted to get in as soon as they could.

Francis stirred up two cups of coffee and gave one to Arthur, "It is too bad that we cannot cook here, would you like me to buy us meals downstairs?"

Arthur shook his head, "It's fine, I found some strawberry jam and bread near the microwave."

"…Arthur, bread and jam will not keep you full for today…"

"Don't worry about it! These are fine! They're _free!_"

Laughing, he wondered where Arthur's habit of keeping free hotel items originated.

After finishing breakfast, the pair hastily stood in line. Luckily, they had arrived fairly early, and were about six people away from getting their entrance passes.

* * *

"Finally!" Arthur cross his arms over his chest, "That took forever!"

"Patience is a virtue, _oui_?"He playfully pet Arthur's head, only to have his hand pushed away, leaving a brightly blushing; yet still annoyed, Arthur.

"…That'll be forty dollars for the two passes, please."

They paid the fee, and stepped through the gate.

What they saw was more than beyond words could describe. _Lights._ Everywhere. Littering the convention dome's ceiling, floors, stalls. It all seemed so, magical.

Francis opened the map of the show they had received with their passes.

"Where should we visit first?"

"Hmm…the light competition is the main event, so I guess we could start with that before it gets too crowded."

Following the map, they headed to the southern end of the dome; and entered a dark tunnel leading to where the competition was.

Surrounded by the darkness, Francis felt the circulation in his arm cut off slightly. Squinting in the shadows, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Arthur clinging to his arm; looking rather…terrified.

"…Arthur, are you alright? I cannot feel my arm…" He pretended to joke, though he really couldn't feel anything other than the choking pressure surrounding his arm from Arthur.

"…I…_Fucking…hate…_small…enclosed…spaces…"

Then, it suddenly became clear to him; Arthur was claustrophobic. Walking further into the tunnel, he noticed a glow of light up ahead. Maybe if Arthur was closer to the light, he'd feel better.

They picked up the pace, and approached the light. It was the first entry of the competition. Francis read the sign beside the window:

"_Opposites Attract"_

Well, that's painfully ironic. At least Arthur's death hold on his arm loosened up. The lights in the first presentation were quite relaxing. Clashes of orange and purple lights lit up the small window, creating a mosaic of brown light, which lit up a glass orb in the middle.

They moved down to the next set of entries, until they finally reached the end to cast their votes.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Although the lights were amazing, being in such a tight space with _Francis_ of all people almost gave him a heart attack.

"…We should eat now, yes?" Francis' suggestion projecting through his thought.

"N-no, it's fine. I'm not that hung-"He felt his stomach growl in opposition. Clearly, there was going to be food eaten; no arguments.

* * *

"…Damn it. The foods at these places are always so overpriced."

They stood in line for about fifteen minutes, Arthur receiving an order of fish and chips, while Francis ordered a green salad with light wine on the side.

They shared their meals, of course; Arthur being tempted by Francis' semi-alcoholic beverage, and Francis' curiosity of deep fried fish and fries. Once they finished eating, Arthur took a look at the map.

"…Let's go into the gift shop next."

Piqued by Arthur's idea, he said nothing but nodded and followed him to the other end of the building.

* * *

It was a standard sized shop, not too big, and not too small. They decided to split up, each looking around and at different things.

Christmas was only a few weeks away, after all. If they could find something for their friends here, or get some ideas for presents, it would be good.

Arthur wandered aimlessly through different sections of the shop, stopping only when he noticed something shiny poking through a mess of plush animals.

Nearing the mounted of plump cotton, he poked at the soft stuffed toy unicorn and sighed. It was a shame he couldn't buy it, cute as it was, he was with Francis; it would be embarrassing if he saw.

What he couldn't see, however, was Francis coming up behind him and putting an arm on his shoulder. By reflex, Arthur jumped in surprised but calmed down seeing Francis smiling behind him.

"Did you find anything you like?"

"No, not really…I'll wait for you outside, if you want to shop a bit more." He watched as Arthur left the shop to sit on a bench across a lit up indoor fountain.

Francis exited the shop a few minutes later, and joined Arthur on the bench.

"You bought some things?" Arthur reached for the bag, but Francis pulled it away laughing nervously.

"_Oui_, just some presents for my family."

"Oh." Arthur shrugged, if he wanted to shop early, that was fine. Looking to his watch, he turned to face Francis, "…we only have a few hours left till the show closes, what would you like to do before we leave?"

His answer was almost immediate, "We should ride the indoor Ferris wheel, it seems like a good way to end the day, _non_?"

The line for the ride was not a long one, and they made it to the front and into their cart relatively quickly. All of a sudden, the whole dome went black, and became immersed with lights. Arthur looked out the tiny window of their box in awe. Today had turned out to be a good one. That is, until, Francis spoke up rather awkwardly.

"…I do not wish to be your friend, anymore."

Taken back by his comment, Arthur grew enraged, "…Why? Why would you say something like that for no reason?"

Francis' eyes kept still, focused, and staring right into Arthur's, "…There is a reason. _Mais oui,_ I do mean exactly what I said."

At this point, Arthur practically yelled, "Then what in the world _do_ you want to be?"

"…Your '_significant other'_."

Arthur's heart all but leapt out of his chest. He couldn't have possibly meant for them to be together as a couple. They were from two different worlds. Far apart; why would someone like Francis even come close to being remotely attracted to someone like _him? Crap. _He was thinking out loud again.

"…because you are an amazing individual, Arthur. I sincerely have these strong feelings for only you." He smiled softly, eyes obviously searching his for something more, "…do I not fit your criteria?"

Arthur considered his list; For sure, Francis was almost everything he'd written down. He also shared those same strong feelings, although at the time they were clouded with confusion. Maybe…he would say…

"Alright," He concluded, "I'll go out with you."

Francis almost leapt out of his seat, in raptures. The action made the heat rise to Arthur's cheeks.

"…You…you need to calm down." The smile was apparent on Arthur's face. A bag was shoved on to his lap. Arthur gave Francis a questionable look.

"…What is this?"

"…For you, _cher."_

"…This is the bag you got from the gift shop."

Saying nothing more, Francis pushed the bag closer to Arthur.

He allowed himself to slowly slip his hand into the bag, and was surprised when he felt something incredibly _soft_. He pulled it out. He smiled. When they were let off the Ferris wheel, he jumped into Francis' arms and was spun around. Yes, he definitely was "the one".

_Number eight: "Must love unicorns."_

_

* * *

_

"_This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,  
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet."_

_

* * *

_

Author's note: Firstly I'd like to thank all of you for reading my fic this far. It made me so happy to read your reviews over and over again. Please stay tuned for the **next chapter!**

Secondly, I did a cover page for my fanfic, which can be accessed here: h t t p : / / emgee-chan . deviantart . c o m / # / d2 x9 spj  
[Please remove the spaces in the link, and press enter.]


	12. Chapter 11

**ART FOR "ONE HALF ROMEO" CAN BE FOUND HERE: **http : / / emgee-chan . deviantart . c o m / # / d2x 9spj

* * *

When Arthur woke up the morning after the light show, he smiled to himself. Everything happened so fast, he wished he could replay each moment since their very first meeting over and over again. He looked down to the plush in his arms and snuggled it closer. This was completely out of character; oh, he knew. But he was in love, and love can make you feel so much unlike yourself; In a good way.

Still holding his unicorn in his arms, he turned around expecting to see Francis sound asleep in his own bed. Unfortunately, what he saw was an empty bed, messy covers, and a neatly packed luggage bag. Piqued, he arose from his mattress and looked around. No Francis. Not in the bathroom, in the closet, or under the bed. Arthur began to think to himself, _"Well, his stuff is still here…did he leave the room?"_

Just then, and right on cue, the door to their hotel room swung open, and there stood Francis, attempting to balance two trays of food, and two cans of pop in his hands. Arthur gently tossed his plush on the bed, and rushed over to help him.

After setting both trays on the table, Arthur looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it. Today would be their first official day as a couple. Though it was exciting and new, Arthur also felt nervous and anxious. Francis and Arthur stared at each other for a brief moment before consuming their food in a comfortable silence.

With a bun eaten and table cleaned up, the couple packed the rest of their possessions into their bags and called a cab. It was still early in the day, so when they arrived back at their dorm they found themselves lifelessly bored. That is, until, they received a knock at their door.

Arthur blinked, but with the little energy he still had, he shouted, "Come in! The door's open!"

And there entered none other than the high spirited couple from next door; Matthew clapping excitedly and Alfred blowing on a poorly tuned trumpet.

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

If Arthur's face could get any more redder, he was glad he didn't have a mirror nearby to see. Francis on the other hand, smiled up at their friends as he and Alfred shared some small talk. Matthew walked up to Arthur.

"So, how are you two doing?" Matthew smiled happily at Arthur.

"Pretty good, it's nice to be in a steady relationship for once instead of being alone." And he was very _very_ glad for that. Francis was one of the very rare people he actually got along with; which explains why the only best and close friends he had were Alfred and Matthew. The other two joined them on Arthur's bed.

"So!" Alfred started, "…with all that 'lovey dovey couple talk' aside, we need to talk about another important thing: Christmas shopping."

They all agreed; Christmas was fast approaching, and they would have to shop early if they wanted to get good presents for their friends and family. The discussion went on longer than everyone expected, and eventually, their friends had to leave, but the conversation continued between Francis and Arthur. In order to buy Alfred and Matthew their gifts without them seeing what they were, Francis and Arthur decided to have a mall date to do some Christmas shopping without them.

* * *

Arthur woke up from his nap, hearing the alarm beside him _bleep_ noisily, while Pierre tried to imitate the sound. He pressed the snooze button before getting up, giving his plush a quick squeeze and placing it above his pillow.

Francis had afternoon classes at this time, and as a result Arthur would have to wait for him to return so that they could go shopping.

As usual, a snack made by Francis was placed neatly on the table, with a rose and a note attached. Dragging his tired feet to the chair, he slumped down and picked up Francis' signature rose and read the message:

"_I miss you a little, I guess you could say, a little too much, a little too often, and a little more each day. I will see you later!_

_Love always, _

_Francis." _

"…Stupid romanticist…" He blushed and walked over to his bedside table to shove the note into his folder.

* * *

Well, this was bad. No, more than just bad, very dreadful, actually.

He's never had to take up two hours getting dressed, or finding a good enough outfit. He needed help. Fast.

Pounding on the wall beside him, he yelled, "YOU TWO. STOP THE LOVE MAKING AND GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE. NOW."

Instantaneously, Alfred and Matthew exploded through the door, panting hard and dressed rather…well, he could say that they were barely dressed _at all_ due to the situation of him calling them into his room during their "happy time".

Alfred panicked, "What's the emergency?"

His response was a mere huff of air, followed by a "…I can't find an outfit for my mall date."

Before Alfred could jump at Arthur in rage, Matthew held him close in an attempt to calm him down. He settled after a good lecture by Matthew, of course, and proceeded to helping Arthur find his outfit.

"This. Is. Impossible." Arthur fell face first on his bed, "…I'm. Going. To. Look. Stupid."

"No you won't! here!" Matthew grabbed a white shirt and green sweater vest, and tan pants "These are fine! Just put them on!"

"Yeah! Shit, Artie! You're worse than a love struck teenage girl getting ready on prom night."

That, he had to admit inwardly to himself, was in fact not far from what he actually was. Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred, and took the clothing from Matthew to change.

"…Are you _positive_ that it looks alright?"

"It's fine, Arthur. Don't worry so much about it." Matthew gave him a reassuring smile, before finishing Arthur's outfit with socks and shoes.

When they had finished, Arthur took a deep breath in order to relax himself, and looked at the clock.

"…Time to go."

* * *

At the mall, the twosome wandered around, trying to find gifts for their families first. They stumbled upon a home hard ware shop.

"A tea set?" Francis looked at the object carefully.

"It's a good gift to give your family; they'll be able to use it. It'll be a good souvenir for them from you, also." Arthur assured. He had bought a collection of antique kitchen ware such as these, many of which he left in his parents' home.

"Alright then! I will go pay." Francis walked to the cashier and handed the box to the clerk to pay.

As Arthur waited for Francis to finish up, he started to think about what _he_ could give as a present to him. His face was red again, wasn't it? He thought hard; what could you give to someone who already has everything they could ever want, and possibly even more? Arthur started playing with the loose thread at the end of his sweater vest, face still glowing, deep in thought.

He felt a hand tilt his chin up, and rest over his forehead, "Arthur? Are you feeling well? Your face is red, you are not sick, are you?"

The closeness of their faces shocked him from his thoughts. "No, no, I'm fine; J-just thinking of what to get for…Alfred and Matthew."

"Ah…" Francis was also stumped as to what to give to his new friends, "…perhaps we could share a gift to give them?"

Now that was a good idea, and Arthur wouldn't have to spend an immense amount of money like last year. He had bought Alfred a bucket load of McDonalds coupons (his poor friend should really get off that stuff.), and gave Matthew a few novels that he enjoyed reading. Arthur looked to Francis, "Where should we buy their gift?"

Cue the jeopardy theme song music…now!

As difficult as it was, Alfred and Matthew showed very small interest in everything else that didn't concern each other.

"Maybe we could buy them one of those 'couple-type' gifts." Arthur suggested, and since there were obviously no more ideas coming up, Francis agreed, "…I think I know the right place to go."

Letting Francis be his guide, they walked around the mall some more until they came to a halt at a very…_suggestive l_ooking store.

Arthur stood paralyzed in astonishment, "…Francis…you know what this place _is_, right?"

Oblivious to the comment, Francis nodded like it was no big deal, "Do not worry, I have a good friend who works here. He emailed me directions to visit him."

"…if you say so…" Arthur hesitantly followed Francis inside. Making it to the counter, a tall man with unusually light hair had his back faced to them as they waited for him to finish his conversation on the phone. Once done, he avoided all eye contact and proceeded to run the store.

"Hey, how can I Hel-…Francis? Is that you?" Arthur was now even more surprised than when he walked into the store. Not only did this man _tower_ over him, he also looked really shady, with even stranger red eyes that could pierce into your soul (he has _got_ to stop reading those mystery books) and an almost super-narcissistic attitude that could rival Alfred's.

"_Bonjour_, Gilbert. This is Arthur…" He introduced slowly, almost bracing himself for the response that was to come, "…my boyfriend."

It was a good thing the shop was dimly lit; Arthur's red face was very much readable. Gilbert stepped from behind the counter; and examined Arthur from head to toe several times before patting Francis on the back laughing, "That's sweet! You finally found someone you actually _like_!"

Arthur was very thankful for the compliment, but no words could come out of his mouth. Those red eyes were very…intimidating.

Francis noticed Arthur's uncommon silence and caught him staring awkwardly at Gilbert. He tugged him closer putting an arm around his waist, "Do not worry; he wears red contact lenses for fun."

Gilbert smirked, "Because I'm just plain _awesome_ like that." This made Francis laugh, he was happy though, meeting the same old Gilbert. "You never did change, even when we met in Europe."

"Of course! So, what brings you both here to my domain?" Yep, Arthur was scared and clinging tightly with both arms wrapped around his torso.

"We are looking for Christmas presents for our friends. They are dating as well."

"Oh, I see. So what _kind_ of couple are they, exactly?"

Arthur summoned up some bravery and spoke a bit, "…there are types of couples?"

"Hey! Shorty can speak!" Arthur scowled at the nickname, as Gilbert laughed and nodded, "Let me explain. There are three different types of couples. Firstly, would be the 'preppy couple'. This is the type of couple that likes to keep it easy, simple, a steady pace with light romance filtered in. Secondly, is the 'romantic couple' this would be the type of couple that goes for the full out heated romance, can't keep their hands off each other, all that stuff. Lastly, is the 'adventurous couple' this describes a couple that does all that sporty junk together. So, which are they?"

The answer was clear, "Romantic. For sure, indefinitely, one hundred percent."

"Well then…" He led them to a section of papers hung on a bulletin board, "…I suggest buying them a 'Couple's Get-a-Way Resort Package' the prices are pretty fair, and it'll make them happy. This one in particular…" Gilbert pointed to a restaurant package, "…comes with a free gift basket. All for the same price as the other resort prices."

Francis looked to Arthur questionably, "What do you think?"

It wasn't a bad idea, especially since they were splitting the price between them. And he had to thank his two best friends for supporting him, even if they did violate everything he owned…which reminded him, he needed to re-fill the sanitizing spray for his desk…

"Sure, I think it'll be a great gift for them."

"Cool. I'll go wrap everything up for you then!" Gilbert then ran to the back as the duo waited patiently at the front counter.

When he returned, everything was wrapped nicely within layers of Christmas themed wrapping paper.

"That'll be twenty two dollars!"

Huh? That can't be right! Arthur spoke up, "…That's half of the original price on the wall!"

Gilbert pat Arthur on the head as he burrowed himself closer to Francis.

"I'll make it a discount for friends, alright? Ok? Awesome! Here you go! Now you better leave before the boss gets back."

They both thanked Gilbert before leaving the shop. Upon waiting, however, Arthur did figure out what to give Francis for Christmas. He'd have to plan everything _carefully_, though.

The next week was going to be _fun_.

* * *

"_At lovers' perjuries,  
They say, Jove laughs."_


	13. Chapter 12

**POLL: **_"One Half Romeo" may be bumped to "M" please tell me your thoughts in reviews._

_

* * *

_

With presents wrapped and stored in the closet, a week had passed and it was now Christmas Eve at the college. Luckily enough, everyone had beaten the last minute shopping rush at the mall and found themselves now in a panic to finish last minute touches on Christmas preparations. Francis and Arthur started decorating their dorm, small lights glittering the ceiling, (Arthur, inspired still by the light show's glamour) and a huge ever green tree in the corner, even brighter and overly decorated than everything else. And, like every year as Arthur suspected, Alfred had bought an even bigger tree to compete with his own; something Matthew wasn't so happy about. The smaller blond was much more modest and simplistic; he set a tiny Christmas tree by the window and hung round colourful orbs on its small branches.

"…A party? Tonight?" Francis had never heard of such a thing, or rather, he never experienced it; he had always jumped from school to school back in France, so the relationships he had with other people didn't last so long as to have him invited to such gatherings.

"…Yes," He spoke slowly, unable to decipher the mixed emotions in his eyes; Arthur thought that his reaction would be normal; or so to speak, would he agree to this like it was nothing new? He had always guessed that Francis' rich status would grant him access to hundreds of exclusive get-togethers, "…we need to make some food to bring for later…"

"_I guess I was wrong…"_ But now Francis was with Arthur; and they could mix their lives together and create something totally new. As Arthur began to zone out, he was snapped back into reality by the sound of nervous laughter as Francis pulled him into his arms for a hug.

"Maybe…we should cook _together_, _oui_? Last night your cooking… had me petrified…"

Arthur pouted but said nothing; he knew Francis was right. Ever since he was small he would love to go create random dishes just for the fun of it. Of course, without any precedent knowledge or any culinary background _at all_; what was a child to do? Grow up with completely tasteless food, of course. After his parents passed away, his older siblings had taken over the house, leaving him to do all the cooking, cleaning, and gardening…not to mention he had almost no time for his embroidery hobby…

"_Oh…I'm daydreaming again…"_

Returning Francis' embrace he mumbled into his chest, "…I want to help cook…" "That would be nice."

* * *

"…Arthur, _cher_; The spatula, _s'il vous plait…"_

A loud clanking of pans echoed through their dorm, Arthur stumbling to find…whatever the heck a "spatula" was.

"…erm…that's the…uh…flippy…thing…right?"

Laughing, he turned to face Arthur; only to see his boyfriend holding an electric mixer in one hand, and said "flippy thing" in the other. Placing a kiss on his cheek, Francis grabbed the spatula; "Yes, _love_; it flips."

If Arthur had started blushing, it wouldn't have mattered; a bag of flour was unsteadily knocked by a hanging pan over the top of their refrigerator and dumping itself on his unsuspecting head; covering him in a white powdery glow. Francis alarmingly retrieved a towel to help Arthur clean up, "It looks like it is snowing in here as well," He brushed the powder from Arthur's hair and held him close; "…you look very festive."

* * *

"Is all the food ready? We're about to leave soon." Arthur collected everything needed for the party and stretched his back. Cooking all day was already strenuous enough, but on top of that, he had to wrap all his last minute presents for his teachers (which he undoubtedly put out of his mind), and give Alfred and Matthew a call saying that they would be there in an hour or so.

"_Oui,_ I put everything in the box." Francis started to contemplate on whether or not he had made enough food for everyone; he was frightened, to be honest. Always being complimented on his cooking by others was rare; he was always pressured to strive to be the best of the best (in not just cooking, but in _every_ endeavour that was pre-chosen for him) with no support from his father and trainer. Working him to the bone as an adolescent, his self-esteem became remarkably low, guiding him towards a new skill of bottling his emotions fairly well. When he was with Arthur, however, he didn't feel the need to utilize his "talent" as often as he suspected since he was in France.

Putting away the last of the gifts into his messenger bag, Arthur made a fixed paced walk to help Francis balance out the food.

"Shall we head out?"

* * *

The party had been planned to be held in their homeroom, just the four of them; but being Arthur, as always, strolling in early to set up desks would be the more "gentlemanly" thing to do. On their way, Arthur lightened most of his load by dropping a few gifts off at some of his professors' offices.

When they had finally reached their destination, an all too familiar medley of clattering chairs filled his head. Of course, _they_ were probably kissing again; but it's alright! It was Christmas Eve; he could let some lip locking on his desk be erased from his memory for just this one night!

"A-ahhn! Hnng.. Al! h-hurry!"

"Gah…M-Matt…"

"Hnnng! H-h-harder!"

_Thud. Thump. Crack._

…Now that was…_new._

Slamming the door open, the image burned itself like a bad tattoo into his fragile, innocent, (yet mildly corrupt) mind. But hey, this was _reality_ speaking to him; and reality's almighty voice of reasoning told his brain quite frankly, that _Matthew was on top of Alfred's lap; riding. _

What made it worse was that _not only_ was this crime committed on _his desk_, but that Alfred angled his head when Arthur opened the door, smiling brightly at him, with Matthew still on top. Not stopping a single _thrust_.

"HAPPY DRY HUMP THURSDAY!"

And finally, when Matthew covered his face in shame and shuddered; Alfred brought it to a close .

He narrowed his eyes at them hissing, "_Off." _

With an inability to walk properly, Matthew stumbled off, as Alfred scooped him up and sat in a different desk; Arthur noticing that they had already set up the _room_ before hand.

"It's _fucking _Christmas Eve! What are you thinking? You know what? I'm going to _try _and ignore that. Let's just eat."

Quickly changing the subject was something Arthur was good at. As long as he had something to keep his mind busy, it would, _in theory_, be fine.

* * *

"Holy frick. This food is amazing!" Alfred gobbled down a few more veggie burgers before tossing his plastic plate into the garbage bag.

"Thank you very much! Arthur and I made the food earlier today."

The room was silent. Alfred stared at Matthew who stared at Arthur.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…No. Seriously. Arthur can't cook for shi-"

The result was a flashy, but amusing, fist to his head.

"Alfred!"

There were very _few_ times when Matthew would use his _full name _when scolding the American. But in the case that it did happen, it meant something serious. Alfred himself had also become accustomed to Matthew's tones, yet it always scared him when he became _truly_ angry. Yes, he knew, his sweet Mattie was an adorable, innocent, boy; but when pushed too far, could turn into a bittersweet _demon_. He learned from firsthand experience in seventh grade himself, and for his efforts, was rewarded with an immeasurable lecture on his idiocy.

"…Sorry…"

They made up quick though, Matthew always having a sort of weakness for his lover's uncontrollable and undying habit of lunging at him and pleading for mercy. Begging, imploring, on his knees…

"Mattie? I love ya lots!" …He just _had _to copy his signature puppy dog eyes. _Damn it._

"Fine, I forgive you."

"Alright! So we should trade and open presents now."

Making a face, Arthur asserted, "…If you really want to. Let's move some desks around and sit on the floor; there's more room."

* * *

Once they were comfortably settled on the floor, they traded presents. The cycle began. Alfred and Matthew unravelled their combined gift from Francis and Arthur, first.

The couple's eyes widened; Matthew was the first to speak, "…A-Arthur…? Are these…a-adult toys?"

Arthur's eyes enlarged twice as much in return, snatching the basket away from Matthew to stare.

"…I didn't know!" He knew he didn't actually ask Gilbert for information on the additional gift basket that came with the resort; and it was already pre-wrapped!

He mentally slapped himself; he would never hear the end of this, for the rest of his life.

Francis stifled a laugh, as Arthur hid behind him in humiliation, "It was a mistake. I can have my friend take it bac-"

"No! It's the thought that counts!" Alfred seized the gift from Arthur. "…It would be too much of a hassle for you to return it!" he finished quickly. A little _too_ quickly.

"P-please open your gift from us now!" Matthew wanted the embarrassment to end, taking the reins of the situation and pushing a fairly medium sized box to Francis and Arthur.

Without much ado, the box was ripped open only to reveal a "couple's matching coffee mugs" set, with each of their names printed clearly on each glass.

"This is nice, _Oui, _Arthur?"

"Yes. Thank you very much!" Arthur smiled, throwing away the remnants of the packaging and returning to his place on the floor.

"We wanted to get you something nice! To commemorate the both of you being together!" Matthew looked very proud of himself, Alfred laughing along continuing their reasoning, "We're just happy, that _you're_ happy."

He smiled to himself; Arthur was lucky, even though he knew that they were his _only_ friends; they were the only ones who he could count on when he needed to let pressure off, or to scream at when he was angry. He'd never take this for granted again.

"Okay, Mattie! Open your present from me now!" Alfred tossed a poorly wrapped gift in Matthew's general direction. Cautiously, he pushed the duct-taped paper off the gift and unfolded what was inside.

"…Aww, It's a polar bear hoodie…" Indeed it was, white, fleece and _incredibly_ soft; attached on the hood were two round bear ears. It was a perfect gift; Alfred had actually gotten him something that appeared to be safe for work!

…That is, until…

"…Al, You know I'm not an extra small."

Alfred smirked maliciously; oh, he _knew,_ alright.

After a few more laughs and clean ups later, the couples retreated back to their dorms for a good night's rest.

* * *

When Francis unlocked the door to their room, he never expected to find their single beds pushed _together._

"…W-what?" He looked at Arthur, to which he didn't reply but sat on the bed; motioning for Francis to join him.

"I had some classmates move them while we were out. I thought it'd be easier since we're dating and all…" He trailed off.

"If it is what you want, Arthur. I do not wish to force you into anything."

Giving Francis a hug, he smiled, "I wanted to give you your present now."

He watched as Arthur scavenged through their closet, pulling out a red-wrapped square.

Plopping on the bed, he handed it to Francis and watched in anticipation as he slowly lifted each layer of paper.

Beneath the paper was a small album. Inquisitively, he opened to the first page, and chuckled to himself. Arthur himself could be defined as _"strange"_ yes, but this made him unique. Each sleeve of the albumwas filled with pictures of them together; at lunch, in class, on their mini-dates, and beyond. How he retrieved these photos he did not know; however, he did know that he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

"…It's adorable. I love it. _Merci_, Arthur." They shared a hug for a few moments, until Arthur felt a cold sensation surround his neck. Pulling back, he lifted a red chain that Francis had clasped during their embrace.

"…What's this?"

Francis placed his hand on top of Arthur's, "This chain is really special to me. It is very symbolic in my family."

"T-thank you so much…I'll keep it safe, for sure."

Glad that they could share such a moment in privacy, Arthur yawned, signifying his fatigue. Quickly changing, he slipped under the covers of their newly joined beds (his unicorn in hand, of course) and snuggled in to Francis' arms.

When he was sure that Arthur was asleep, he reached for his cell phone by his lamp. It had alarmed earlier, but he kept ignoring it due to all the business of the day.

A text message.

"_Francis. I will be visiting very soon to see your progress in school. I will also need to speak to you about your current situation __**immediately**__."_

Sensing his heart pound faster, he replayed the warning from his mother in his head. He had to face _him_ some day. If that day would be soon, he needed to stand up for himself; and Arthur.

But for now, he set his phone back on the table; and noticed something peeking out from the gap in the drawer. Pulling the sheet out, he recognized it as Arthur's "top ten" list. What he did _not_ recognize was a sentence printed on the back, reading:

"_He is the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep, ensuring I have a pleasant day and sweet dreams. Yet, this is_ _what I get for falling in love. I can never get him out of my mind. It is the way that he holds me, and it is the way he makes me fall in love with him." _

_

* * *

_

"_He jests at scars that never felt a wound.  
But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?  
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."_


	14. Chapter 13

Waking up on Christmas day, in the arms of your lover on your _now _shared bed was like a breath of fresh air. Letting his eyes slowly flutter open, Arthur permit a soft laugh to surface from his lips as he cuddled closer to Francis; "Fluffy" the now named unicorn, sandwiched between them.

Stirring slightly, Francis woke up to the sight of his boyfriend nuzzling closer to him. He, in return, hugged Arthur with distressed eyes. Today would be reasonably troublesome; Matthew and Alfred had cashed in their resort tickets and were going to be away for the rest of the winter holiday. This meant that he had absolutely no one to confide in about his…_issue_.

It wasn't that Francis was ashamed of being with Arthur; if anything, he valued and adored him more than anyone else in the entire world. Nonetheless, he knew that he had to tell him somehow; because if he didn't, it would be harder for the both of them.

"…Maybe," Arthur started, still huddled close to Francis, "…we should take a walk around the town for Christmas…"

"If it is what you want, I will go with you." Francis flashed a fake smile to Arthur, but his lover wasn't fooled; His eyes were full of obvious worry and anguish. Arthur worriedly sat up and stared directly into Francis' eyes, "…What's wrong? You know you can't hide it from me."

Pushing away stray strands of hair from Arthur's anxious face, Francis leaned back and heaved a loud sigh.

"…I will tell you later today. My head is still half asleep."

"…A-alright…" Arthur said slowly, "…we should get changed before we go out."

* * *

Winter during the afternoon was frosty. Heaps of snow meters deep, piled even higher from the shovelled snow on the sidewalk. Francis and Arthur walked side by side, trying to make their way through the snowy weather and slippery cement and into the park. On the way, Arthur noticed Francis' unusually quiet behaviour; his eyes cast down, deep in thought. Gathering all the courage his combative yet soft attitude could supply, Arthur shoved his hand into Francis' pocket and intertwined their fingers together.

It wasn't like him at all to take the initiative, but seeing him acting so out of character sparked something.

Francis stared surprisingly at Arthur, and smiled warmly. Noticing this, Arthur blushed hard and turned his gaze away.

"…Your sad face really pisses me off. Now let's go, the park is that way."

* * *

Once there, Arthur let go of Francis' hand and trotted over to the swings. Brushing some snow from the seat, he sat himself down and patted the swing beside him, signalling Francis to join him.

So here they were, swinging high together; away from _most_ of their problems. That is, until Francis _tried_ to speak up.

"…_Mon cher_…" Francis called; his swinging put to a halt.

"…Hmm?"

This was his chance. If he didn't get this problem out in the open between them now, it would surely become an even bigger catastrophe afterward. But first, it might be best to speak in a more…_private_ location.

"…I would like to treat you to some tea, at our usual place; if you would like."

Arthur stopped swinging at the mention of _free tea_. "Sure, let's go."

* * *

"…Nng….Al…later…too tired…" Matthew whined, half naked and collapsed on the bed of their resort suite, in an effort to rest his tired body.

Unfortunately, Matthew's American boyfriend would not accept "no, it's twelve in the afternoon, and we've done it eight times already in the shower since nine last night" As a legit answer. Instead, Alfred proceeded to sneak around under the covers in pursuit of getting his beloved Mattie to give in.

"Mattie…Mattie…._Pwease?_"

After a solid fifteen minutes of Alfred persistently probing around his lower waist region, Matthew abruptly slipped off the bed and slipped his robe on, earning him a huff of disappointment from Alfred.

He stretched his back a bit and surrendered, "…Next round, after we eat brunch. I'm hungry."

There they were again, those puppy dog ears that always seemed to appear on Alfred's head when he got what he wanted; such a sweet notion that only his lover could pull off, but in some cases, it became rather annoying; in a cute way.

_And he loves him very much_.

Matthew himself had always bottled up his insecurities; after being ignored constantly throughout his childhood, and having to deal with low self esteem issues, he fell into a dark world; a world in which he had used to find some sort of "escape" from his shattered reflection. He often wondered why and _how_ in the world someone who came from such a content and lucky circle, and as optimistic and high spirited as Alfred, would ever come to appreciate and love someone like _him_.

He shook it off; of course, he knew that Alfred's answer would always be the same: "I love only you! So it's okay!" Showing off his heroic pose and hugging him tightly.

And through those years, he had come to realize all the things that they've accomplished together, including how they even got a blessing from their _only best friend._

Arthur had always been there; through their elementary and high school years, defending; fighting _for_ them, never against. Even at the risk of his own shot and chance at love, he of all people deserved it most of all.

Thus, Matthew came to a conclusion; if he could ensure that Arthur and Francis could be just as happy as he and Alfred were every single day, he would do his best to guarantee that result.

However, he also came to a hypothesis; something that stemmed from a private conversation Francis' mother had with Alfred and himself: If Arthur isn't willing to give it his all; isn't willing to let his heart love someone to the extent of _any_ worse case scenario, one hundred and ten percent, the "fairy tale ending" they are striving so hard to achieve, will _never_ become reality.

And in any case, every fairy tale has its _dragon_.

* * *

After placing their order for their drinks, Arthur began to notice Francis' nervous aura but said nothing. At the same time, Francis found it unbearably difficult to find a way to present Arthur with this new arrangement of information; therefore, he started to panic; with small talk.

"…I hope Matthew and Alfred are doing well…"

"They probably are, seeing as we literally handed them over a gift to satisfy their 'needs'."

At that moment, a waiter came in with a tray and placed each of their drinks on the table.

Taking a long sip of his tea to stall for time, Arthur drank about half the cup before setting it down to confront Francis.

"…There's something wrong, I can tell. You've been acting weird ever since this morning. What's up with you?"

It was now or never; he _had_ to notify Arthur. It was inevitable. He took a shallow breath of air and raised his head up to look at him.

"I like you very much; you do know that, _oui_?"

Now Arthur was confused, "…Of course I know! I like you too! We're _dating_ aren't we?" he practically yelled out. If it wasn't for the booth that Francis requested for them, his voice could have penetrated through the walls, causing a scene. Why would Francis want to bring _this_ up, of all things?

Francis' eyes were still set on Arthur's, "We are, and that is something that I will never regret. However…" He placed his hand over Arthur's and held on, "…I am afraid that I have my own tribulations that I am not proud of."

He was serious. Arthur knew, there was something bothering him; eating him from the inside; but what?

Arthur spoke gently, sensing the uneasiness in Francis' voice, "…You know can tell me _anything_, right?"

"…My father will be in town tomorrow, to see my progress and lifestyle at the college."

Arthur nodded slowly, trying to take in and understand each bit of information.

"…What does that have to do with anything? Are you afraid that he'll be angry with you if you're not doing well in management?"

Arthur believed that this was a fairly simple explanation; and would explain Francis' behaviour since this morning.

"…That is not what I am afraid of, _cher_…" Francis once again looked away, avoiding all possible eye contact with Arthur. Sadness was a clear tone in his voice.

"…Then what's the matter?"

Arthur felt Francis grasp his hand nervously; still not looking him in the eyes.

"…He _knows_, Arthur."

He felt something odd prod at his heart; somehow feeling as if he already knew the answer, he pressed on for the answer anyways.

"…knows _what_, exactly, Francis?"

"…about _us_. Mother informed him, and he insists that we meet with him without delay."

Arthur finished off the last of his tea, calming himself down before asking, "…When will this meeting be?"

"…His secretary informed me that he has already landed in America, and will be arriving at the campus tomorrow evening."

This came as a big shock to Arthur, a wave of fear washing through him; dissolving all his confidence in their relationship like mere salt.

He knew that Francis was not on very good terms with his father, but never said anything more than that.

Judging by the look on Francis' face, it was clear that they needed to continue their conversation back in their dorm.

* * *

Once they had returned, however, Arthur had fallen asleep along the way, leaving Francis to carry him back into their dorm.

He supposed it would be best to tuck Arthur in and let him rest. Francis had already given him way too much to think about tonight, anyways.

Placing him gently onto their bed, Arthur subconsciously turned to his side, mumbling random incoherent babble. Detecting Fluffy propped up against a flower vase on the table, Francis picked up the plush, and coaxed it kindly into Arthur's arms.

He himself, got into his night time attire, and joined Arthur in bed, holding him closely.

Smiling to himself, he kissed his lover's forehead and set his chin a top Arthur's head.

"I am so sorry, _mon cher_…I have brought you into my world."

* * *

In another city, Matthew was sitting, his back pressed against Alfred's torso; reading a book.

"Mattie! Let's watch a movie on T.V!" Alfred asked, snaking his arms securely around Matthew's waist.

"…Let me finish reading this scene first… it's the most important part!" His eyes were practically _glued_ to the pages.

"…You really like that book, huh?" Alfred peered over Matthew's shoulder to steal a glance.

"Yes, Arthur lent it to me. I've never been interested in Shakespeare in the past, but 'Romeo and Juliet' is actually pretty interesting."

Alfred pouted, "Reading is dangerous. Books hate me, I got a paper cut! I could have _bled_ to death!"

Laughing softly at his boyfriend's mini drama, Matthew tilt his head up, and kissed Alfred upside down.

"One more line, Al. Let me finish. Why don't you go ahead and pick a movie."

As Alfred proceeded to do as he was told, Matthew finished by reading the line out loud to himself:

"_A plague a' both your houses! I am sped.  
Is he gone and hath nothing?"_


	15. Chapter 14

Arthur woke up in the middle of the night, achieving minimal sleep due to a very light nightmare. Events like these rarely happened to him, and when they did, it often meant he was over working his mind. Usually, he would have Alfred or Matthew there to help him through these times, but currently, he had no one.

Most people would suggest for him to sign up for a counsellor, but he would always refuse the offer, feeling too insecure opening up everything about him to a complete stranger. He kept Fluffy in his arms and slowly got out of bed, pulling the blanket up so that Francis wouldn't feel cold.

He dropped Fluffy onto the counter and decided to pour himself some tea. It was an addiction, really; before his parents passed away, they would always give him tea to drink, assuring him that it would definitely calm him down, and give him the power to fight all the monsters under his bed.

_He isn't five years old anymore._

This "monster" was pretty realistic, and no cup of chamomile tea would fix it. Putting some cups down on the table, he poured some tea from his electronic kettle into a teapot and brought it with him. Just the aroma of the liquid acted as an anaesthetic to his mind; filling his nose, almost like Novocain; numbing his senses.

_Novocain doesn't stop the pain completely._

Arthur lifted the cup to his lips, but before he could drink, he set the cup down and walked over to the counter, picking up Fluffy and mumbling, "…sorry, almost forgot you there…" before returning to his seat.

_Squawk… _

Turning to look at the table behind him, he noticed Pierre stretching his wings on a perch. Staring at Arthur with cute, but genuinely worried eyes, he hopped to a branch in order to get as close to him as possible.

And without thinking, Arthur opened the door to Pierre's cage as the small white bird flew out and landed on his table, cooing softly and moving up to Arthur's shoulder to nuzzle his face, sympathetically.

"…Francis wasn't kidding; you really are a pretty smart bird…" He lifted Pierre from his shoulder and stroked his head gently.

"…What am I going to do?" He placed Pierre down on the table, "…I love him very much, but…"

Looking towards Francis' sleeping form on the bed, he sighed, "…I'm scared."

"_Scared of what?"_

Arthur rubbed his eyes; did Pierre just speak? It wasn't possible. He isn't a parrot…

Crossing his arms on the table, he laid the side of his head on them, staring cautiously at the innocent looking bird. This was just like the time he thought he could see unicorns and fairies as a child; his older siblings would often tease him for it.

Two beady black eyes blinked twice at him, still waiting for an answer.

He gave in, "Alright, I'll play along. I'm talking to a bird." Perhaps his brain was simply half asleep, and imagining the impossible.

"_What are you afraid of?" _Pierre repeated himself.

"…If I love him too much, I might lose him. It'll hurt too much." Arthur rubbed his eyes hard, trying to wipe away any tears that may have surfaced.

"_Please don't worry; he loves you just as much, I know so! While cooking in his management class, my master always sings songs consisting of just your name, when he cooks. He doesn't do that for just anyone. Trust in my master, talk to him. Your love will prevail."_

Arthur laughed and picked Pierre up in his hands, bringing him to his eye level, "You know, for a bird, you give pretty good love advice."

Pierre squawked happily, "_Mais oui! I am from France, after all."_

He opened Pierre's cage door once again, and allowed him to step onto a post.

Jokingly, he added, "…You might actually be smarter than Alfred…"

"…Hmm? Who is?" Arthur gulped and turned back around to see Francis standing up from bed, rubbing his tired eyes.

Acting out of reflex, Arthur shot out of his chair and dove into Francis' arms, hugging him tightly. Baffled, he opened his mouth to question Arthur's actions, but was silenced when Arthur spoke up first, "…Don't say anything…I just want to hug you for a while longer…"

"_O-oui?_ Alright." Francis returned the hug, still perplexed by Arthur's sudden sweetness.

The tea was left _cold_ on the table.

* * *

"Okay, I'm ready. Francis? What time are we supposed to meet them in the foyer?"

"I think we are to leave right about no-" Francis stopped in mid-sentence, spinning on his heel and running into their walk-in closet.

This left Arthur just as confused, jaw dropped, patronized. Well, it wasn't every day that his boyfriend would walk out of their dorm in a jet black business suit. He snapped out of his shock when a suit bag was thrust in his direction.

"W-w-what is _this_?" Arthur asked, already unzipping the grey bag. Inside held a smaller, similar black suit; he assumed he was going to be wearing.

"I had this suit custom made just for you, _cher_. It will be your outfit for today."

Arthur deadpanned, "Oh. Right then. I'll go change now."

A few moments later, Arthur came out of the bathroom, everything put into place except…

"Stupid fucking tie." He fumbled around with the long strip of fabric pushing, shoving, and twisting it in every way possible. "…Damn it!"

Francis chuckled and walked over to Arthur, "…Does my inability to tie one of these fucking things amuse you?"

Coming up behind Arthur, he hugged him from behind, "_Non,_ It is very cute."

Francis then brought his hands to Arthur's tie and fixed it properly, "There, we are ready now."

* * *

The couple arrived at the school's foyer and were greeted by two men in related suits. Arthur noticed Francis scowl lightly, shaking the hand of the slightly taller man.

Pointing to Arthur, Francis began the introductions, "Arthur, this is my father and his secretary."

In turn, Arthur shook both of their hands with as much courage as he could muster up. Being the taller one, Francis' father was nothing like Arthur expected; for a man over fifty, he looked like he could be Francis' older brother, what he also didn't expect was the unusually pleasant air he emit when he spoke.

"Hello there, it's nice to meet you. Francis' mother has already told me so much about you." He gave Arthur a eerily familiar costume smile, one that Francis often had when he occasionally tried to flirt. _"Like father like son, I guess."_ Arthur thought, maybe this wouldn't be _so_ terrible.

"Y-yes, it's very nice to meet you also."

Francis started to feel the awkward tension in the air and interjected, "Father, I think that it is time that I show you my advancement in my management class."

Walking through the halls, Francis lead them into a different building; Arthur, glad that Matthew and Alfred were _away_, their usual antics would most likely horrify Francis' guests; and he was already treading on paper thin ice.

Pushing open two doors, everyone stepped inside and examined the hall. Arthur had never been to this portion of the campus, so it was all very new to him. A professor stepped out, greeting Francis' father in private. Apparently, he had accomplished straight A's in all his courses for the term. He rarely spoke to Arthur about his classes, so learning this small bit of information was interesting for him.

When Francis' father had finished speaking, he returned to join the rest of them, "I feel that you are doing substantially well here. I expect you to maintain those numbers."

"_Oui_."

All Arthur wanted to do was hug his defenceless boyfriend; he never saw a side of Francis that looked so vulnerable.

"Now then…" Francis' father kept his smile up and clapped his hands together, "How about some lunch? I will treat us."

* * *

Arthur was already used to rides in the limo, much to Mr. Bonnefoy's surprise, and after thirty minutes had passed, they reached their destination.

A tall building, flashing neon lights…it looked really…_expensive_.

As they got out of the limousine, Francis whispered in Arthur's ear, "…This is one of our family's restaurants in this area."

Inside of the restaurant, Mr. Bonnefoy walked up to the podium professionally; slipping a few "tips" to the waiter, as they were escorted to an isolated booth in the back.

They were seated at a large round table, many chairs surrounding it. Arthur and Francis sat beside each other, Mr. Bonnefoy and his secretary in front of them; the extra empty seats only made Arthur feel smaller, and more intimidated.

Mr. Bonnefoy was the first to speak, "We will be having some other guests come by later, so until then, please feel free to order what you like."

The four of them ordered, and within ten minutes, their food arrived quickly. Arthur had never seen such efficient service. Francis had so much to live up to, if he was to run all of _this_.

"So, Arthur…" Mr. Bonnefoy took a bite out of his meal, swallowed, and continued, "Tell me about yourself; I've heard from Francis that you enjoy literature! Your vocabulary must be very impressive."

Arthur nodded, "Yes, I hope to become a novelist after graduation."

"Oh! That is a very ambitious goal; I would love to read one of your books, if you ever become _successful_."

The man seemed nice enough as it is, but to Arthur, there was something odd, something bittersweet about his tone of voice.

Just as things started to become comfortable, Francis' ringtone filled the open air.

"Ah, please excuse me. I will take this call outside."

The door to the booth shut, with Francis out, leaving Arthur with his Father and secretary.

"Oh, well then…" Arthur tried not to stutter, his nervousness building up.

"Mr. Kirkland" Mr. Bonnefoy had changed his persona completely, "…now that my son is out of the room, I have something of great importance that I must speak with you about."

"O-oh, alright then." _This_ did not sound good.

"You seem like a very reasonable man, and I have a good amount of respect for you and your goals. However…" Mr. Bonnefoy put his cutlery down and looked up at Arthur, "I do not wish for you to be having this _affair_ with my son."

Arthur felt his throat tighten up, a total loss for words.

"Therefore…" He snapped his fingers as his secretary pulled out a thin leather book, removing a small sheet of paper from it, and offering it to Arthur.

Arthur stared at the sheet with wide eyes; Mr. Bonnefoy continued, "…Please accept it and discontinue this 'relationship' with Francis. You will never have this 'hook up' as you call it, work out between you. Your worlds are poles apart."

He didn't know what to do. Arthur looked back to the paper in his hands and trembled.

_Two and a half million dollars._

With this money, he would have enough to support himself, pay his tuition, not have to work, and help his siblings.

's voice drew him away from his thoughts, "…Just take it. It is what you wanted to gain by pursuing him, is it not?"

That was just it.

When he tried to kill himself that day, jumping off the roof and somehow befriending this (which at the time he believed) stuck up "rich guy", Arthur never cared about how he could benefit himself from him, or how much money he had when Francis asked him out.

And then Pierre popped into his mind. Although talking to the small creature was really awkward for him, his inner thoughts were right. It didn't matter if Francis had this high status and power; everything was fine up until now. He ripped the cheque in half and tossed them in their direction.

"…No thank you. I don't need this."

All of a sudden the booth's doors opened up and revealed Francis, two women following directly behind him; one of which, Arthur recognized as Francis' mother. But who was the other guest? A sister, maybe? her hair colour almost matched Francis'.

The three of them sat down, Francis taking his previous seat next to Arthur, and holding his hand under the table where no one could see. The look on Francis' face was readable, "_Are you alright?_"

The only response he received was a quiet sigh and nod.

"Arthur, dear!" Mrs. Bonnefoy was as cheerful as ever, "…It has been a while, I hope you have been doing well!"

He politely replied, "Yes, everything has been great, the past week."

"Enough small talk!" Mr. Bonnefoy cut in, signalling towards the other female that arrived with Francis' mother, "Arthur, meet Jeanne. She hails from Orléans, in France. Her family has been close to ours for many years, as well as coming from the similar profession, and, at your age, she is already working at the family business."

Arthur felt discomfort at the words, Francis having a firm grip on his hand in an attempt to reassure Arthur.

"I see."

She seemed like such a sweet girl, and innocent face, and a smile that came along with it. So she wasn't a family member, but why was she here?

"Yes, she is very well accomplished; she and Francis have known each other for about three years now."

Timidly, Jeanne let herself into the conversation, "…Yes, but for reasons I do not understand, he left France so suddenly to study without any explanation."

"Oh." Arthur really couldn't think of what to say other than that. Thinking out loud was no exception.

"…You two must have been good friends."

"Not quite…" Jeanne smiled shyly, "I'm his _fiancée.____"_

___

* * *

_

"_O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet..."_


	16. Chapter 15

**UPDATE:** Rating is now changed to "M"

* * *

"…And that is it. If you do not end this affair, I will have no other choice but to disown you, and cut you off from any inheritance."

Arthur could see the hurt in Francis' eyes; already feeling as if he had disappointed his own father to the point of no return. The entire lunch proceeded to dinner, and everything was already too chaotic to handle. It also occurred to him, that the poor girl sitting across the table had no knowledge of his relationship with Francis. Then, she spoke.

"…I do not understand. What are you to Francis?" Jeanne spoke in an endearing voice, yet Arthur could tell; inside she was very strong-willed; much like the girls at his previous schools, feminists who could get anything they wished for in a snap.

But through this muddled mess, he could not find the words (or _any_ words for that matter) to answer her question. Before he could actually put together minuscule prose to form some type of logical come back, Francis pulled Arthur by his arm and dragged him to the nearest exit of the restaurant; bidding only his mother a sincere goodbye.

Francis (still holding a firm grip on Arthur's arm) pulled out his cell phone and request for a taxi to pick them up immediately, and within a time span of five minutes, a private cab arrived to bring them back. During the ride back home, there was an unbearable silence between them. For Arthur, there were three stages he went through when forced to accept something above the usual awareness he had.

_Denial_; Francis' father would not accept them being together; and would disown his one and only son if he didn't end it.

They arrived home at a later hour than expected, Arthur's denial-phase nearly dissolved.

_Anger_; why would Francis keep something like this away from him?

Arthur unlocked the door and stomped angrily inside. When he heard Francis shut and lock the door, he yelled, "…What the fuck was that?"

Francis stuttered, "A-Arthur, I-I am so-"

"Don't you even try to apologize! I don't even think you know the current weight of our situation! You never even told me, that you had a fucking fiancée. I really hate you right now." Arthur bitterly spat out.

Francis was hurt; every word Arthur said stabbed into him like daggers to his heart. Under no circumstances did Arthur ever say he hated him. He shut his mouth, nodded, and took some clothes from their closet to change into.

Hearing the "click" notifying Arthur that Francis had locked the bathroom door to change, he himself put on his night wear, and let himself drop face first on their bed, he cried his eyes out into a pillow; heavy sobs and all.

His whole world was spinning out of control. He would have never thought of wishing for his old life back. At least back then, he didn't have to deal with people who were so high up there. Also, just the fact that this girl shared the same feelings for his lover added fuel to the already growing fire.

So many factors from this moment were scattered through his brain. Arthur was already dead scared of Francis leaving him, either for someone else; or for his family's reputation.

Then his senses kicked in; what had he just done? Obviously lied to Francis; he knew that "hate" was a word his lover rarely used. More tears stained his pillow. He didn't know what to do.

Admit defeat? Persevere? He knew one thing for sure, that he did not want to give up on them.

A second "click" was heard, and Arthur quickly tried to rub his eyes to wipe away his tears. Unfortunately,  
nothing could hide the red puffiness around his eyes. Francis walked in and quietly sat on their bed, still saying nothing.

After a few seconds of an awkward silence, Francis scooted closer to Arthur, grasped both his arms and forced Arthur to face him.

"…Arthur, look at me."

"No." His stubbornness was truly impeccable. Arthur kept his eyes low, staring at the carpeted floor.

Francis tilted Arthur's chin up; forcing their eyes to lock. The sudden eye contact was enough to make Arthur burst into tears again, pouncing; he threw his arms around Francis' neck and began to cry loudly.

"I'm…hic…s-sorry! Please don't hate me!"

It really broke Francis' heart to see Arthur break down like this in front of him. He held him tighter and pulled him up against his chest, rubbing his back to console him.

When Arthur's sobs died down to quiet sniffles, he pulled back, and rubbed his eyes again.

"I am not going to marry her."

Arthur hiccoughed, "R-really?"

Smiling, Francis replied, "Of course! Although, there was something I was going to tell you, but it seems to have slipped my mind…"

Arthur smirked in between sniffles, "…That you're madly in love with me and you'll stay with me forever?"

Francis laughed and pulled Arthur closer, "Yes it is true, but that is not something that I would ever forget."

Arthur pouted, and without any other quirky reply, "…Fuck you."

Francis flipped them over so that he was on top, "Don't threaten me with a good time, _cher_."

He leaned down and joined their lips together; this time, it was different. Arthur reciprocated and kissed him back full force, it was more intense and passionate than any of the other times they had done it.

Francis moved his hand down to Arthur's waistband; looking into his eyes for consent. When Arthur cautiously nodded, he reassured him, "…Any time you wish to stop; I will hold myself back, even if it hurts."

Francis acted quickly, and soon the comfort of their clothing was discarded onto the floor. He bent down to kiss him deeply again, trailing those same kisses along his neck, and down his body.

Arthur felt hands fumble around his chest, and let out an unwillingly let out a moan.

"_Cher_, I am happy that you are responding."

Blushing furiously, Arthur closed his eyes as he felt Francis lean over to grab a bottle of lotion. They would never have expected this to happen anytime soon, so neither of the two gave much thought into buying the proper supplies; Francis improvised.

Squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers, he moved down to Arthur's entrance and slowly pressed his fingers into the tight ring of muscle.

As soon as he heard Arthur whimper, he stopped to look up at him, "…Are you alright? Do you want to stop? "

Arthur shook his head and tried to collect himself, "…first t-time…it hurts…" Never had it occurred to Francis that there was the possibility of Arthur still being a virgin; he would have to take it slow for him, preparing him properly as to not put him in any further pain.

Once Francis was sure that Arthur had gotten used to the new feeling, he removed his fingers and began to prepare himself.

Suddenly, Arthur felt something bigger press up against him. Taking note of his trembling body, Francis looped his fingers with Arthur's and kissed him once more; "Arthur, trust me."

Francis pushed himself in slowly, mindful of Arthur's pained expression.

"Shh, I am right here…" He touched their foreheads together, so that they were looking straight into each other's eyes, "…_Je t'aime_…" and with that, fully pushed himself in.

He smiled weakly at Arthur, his eyes filled with lust, and authentically love. Letting Arthur adjust to the recent sensation, he did his best to hold himself back from pulling back and thrusting in.

"Arthur, can you feel it? We have become one. We will always be together; I love you."

Once fully adjusted to Francis, Arthur signalled a nod; letting him know that it was alright to move.

He started at a slow even rhythm, but began to quicken his pace as the time went on.

"U-uhn! …nn…Ahh…F-Francis…n-no more…'m…close…" Arthur clutched onto the pillow beside him and tried to move with Francis at the same tempo.

Holding Arthur tighter, he whispered gently in his ear, "…Arthur…together now…"

"A-ahn!..." They reached their climax at the same time; Francis pulling out of his lover slowly and covering them both with a blanket. Arthur fell asleep without delay, the moment his head hit the feathery comfort that was his pillow.

Francis watched as Arthur's breathing slowly steadied, smiling to himself as he felt a small bit of drowsiness over come him. He held Arthur protectively in his arms.

"_Thank you, Arthur. For falling in love with me."_

_

* * *

_

The following morning, Arthur woke up sore. Feeling the sudden motion, Francis turned around and placed a quick peck on his lips.

"Good morning, Arthur."

Blushing, he fumbled with the bed sheet before remembering what he was going to ask.

"…I…I'm still scared…" he openly admit, "…if we don't break up, you'll lose everything. But I'm terrified of losing you to anyone…"

Sitting up from the bed, Arthur followed, Francis stretching his arms above his head.

"Do not worry about it. I already have a plan."

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur crossed his arms across his chest in suspicion, "…What plan?"

"In my family, there is a strict tradition we all must follow."

"…Go on…"

"The single members of my family have coloured chains; once those chains are given away, the receiver cannot return it."

Arthur was completely confused, "…What does that have to do with anyt-"

"…Will you marry me?"

With wide eyes, Arthur tried to speak, only to produce a high _"squeak"_; tackling Francis back onto the bed and snuggling closer, "…fuck yes."

Francis lifted Arthur onto his lap and kissed him deeply, something new about it caused Arthur to gasp.

"…French kiss?"

Francis tilted his head in confusion, "…_Non_, English kiss."

"…What?"

"In my country…" Francis clarified, "_that_ is called an English kiss."

Scrunching his face, Arthur most certainly did not hear about this in International Relations class.

"Hmph. Well, you're in America now, and over here, it's called a French kiss."

Francis kissed him again, "Does it really matter, _cher_? It does not change the fact that I will still be in love with you no matter what kind of ethnic kiss."

Arthur sighed and lay his head down on Francis' chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"…Should we shop for wedding rings?"

"It is not necessary…" He stroked Arthur's head lovingly, "…we were engaged even before I asked you today."

Arthur lifted his head to look at Francis strangely, "…how is that possible?"

He followed Francis eyes as his gaze landed to his neck; the red necklace he had received as a gift from Francis for Christmas…

"…You indirectly proposed."

"_Oui!_ I did!" Francis proclaimed proudly, messing up Arthur's hair as he did so.

The couple was beyond happy at the moment; in complete bliss, not even their problems could pass through their barrier.

"So…what's next?" Arthur rose from the bed, almost stumbling over due to the pain, painfully attempting to dress himself.

"It is obvious, _non_?" Getting up himself, he stood beside Arthur and put an arm around his waist, "…we must plan the _date_."

_Acceptance_; Arthur wanted to love no one else but Francis. He was sure of that. Even at the risk of his life.

* * *

"_But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:  
Be not her maid, since she is envious;  
Her vestal livery is but sick and green  
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.  
It is my lady, O, it is my love!"_

_**BEFORE YOU REVIEW: **_

To my fellow users,

I have written a brief (current) story analysis for the chapters so far. If  
you have any strong feelings whatsoever, positive or negative, please take  
some time to read it. The link to the analysis can be found here: h t t p : /  
emgee-chan . deviantart . c o m /journal/34769110/

Please remove the spaces and press enter.

Thank you. 


	17. Chapter 16

Sitting in lit class daydreaming wasn't something Arthur did often. Actually, the fact that it was during his favourite class meant that something was vaguely _different_.

"…Therefore, in order to maintain our pace with 'Romeo and Juliet', we must first understand the core principal that Shakespeare has hidden beneath the text. Let's hear some of your recent reports on this act. Who would like to go first?"

Eyes clouded, completely zoned out, Arthur glanced intently out the window propping his elbow on his desk and laying his head in the palm of his hand. After the fiasco that happened two weeks ago, and the intimate _incident_ that proceeded that night, it gave Arthur much to think about. He woke up when he felt a ruler smack his desk loudly.

"...Mr. Kirkland. Your report, please. It isn't like you to be dozing off in my class, please tighten your focus."

Arthur stood up abruptly, with his report in hand clearing his throat as he began.

"The male lead, Romeo, departs for the Capulet's feast regardless of being caught by the enemy. Still infatuated with his former 'love', Rosalind, he arrives with low expectations. The moment he sees Juliet, however, he falls in love at first sight; instantly. It is from this point forward that their relationship is very quickly escalated to much more, which is something the author tries to emphasize throughout their relationship. Also, Even though they know almost nothing about each other except for the fact that their households are mortal enemies. Even so, they choose to commit to each other despite the consequences that their parents may enforce if they are to get caught."

Arthur's lit professor nodded slightly, "Mr. Kirkland makes very valid points." Turning to Arthur, he signalled, "Thank you, you may sit."

"Indeed…" The professor began, "…Romeo's sudden love for Juliet ignites sparks in both parties. However, if we compare it to relationships in our present day, the idea of 'love at first sight' is a rare one; that can either be good or bad, and will speed up the usual courting process between a couple."

As the professor continued his speech, a light laugh filtered through the air around Arthur as he sat back down and swivelled on his chair to look, "pffft. Hey Artie, sound like _anyone_ we know?"

Glaring, he viciously stomped his foot into Alfred's'; "…go fuck yourself."

Whimpering in pain Alfred scampered to Matthew's desk pathetically as Arthur was saved by the bell ringing, all the students rushing to escape.

He put all his supplies back into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder then walking over to Alfred; obviously fake crying his way into bed.

"Mattie! Arthur hurt me! Kiss it better?"

Looking at Arthur with a look of disbelief, he had to hold back from laughing hysterically at how hard Alfred was trying, "…Did you _really_ kick him in the _groin_?"

Arthur now had two options; lie, and satisfy Alfred's obvious _need_, or tell the truth; denying him any copulation, and allowing him a peaceful night's sleep. He chose the latter.

"I stomped on his foot."

Matthew shoved Alfred off of him and pouted, "…You are _so_ not getting any tonight."

And almost as if he _did_ get kicked in his lower regions, Alfred cried out, "BUT MATTIE, IF WE DON'T, I WON'T BE ABLE TO HAVE 'NICE' DREAMS ABOUT YOU."

Rolling his eyes, Matthew replied, "Yeah well, good luck with _that_." And for added "effect" he put his things neatly in his bag, put his bag on, and walked over to a sulking Alfred at his desk, sat on his lap, before grinding down hard against his crotch, producing a whine from his sexually frustrated counterpart, then making a swift exit, leaving Alfred alone to deal with his _matter._

Following Matthew out, Arthur had to power walk in order to catch up. Often times it was hard to keep up to his pace, mostly because Matthew practiced hockey regularly, so his walking and running speeds where pretty impressive. Once he did catch up, he also had to regain his breath before speaking.

"…Don't you think that was a bit…harsh?" But Arthur wasn't complaining! Anything that would keep the silence in his dorm was completely fine with him.

"…Maybe…" Matthew contemplated, "…But provoking him like that makes me happy…"

Arthur raised a questionable eyebrow, "…how so?"

Thinking for a moment, Matthew answered in a know-it-all tone, "Well…think about it this way. Let's say your crush is the manager of a popular clothing store at the mall."

Not knowing where this conversation was going at all, he slowly drawled out a "…Okay….?"

Matthew continued, "…If you like them, you'd want them to notice you, right?"

"Well yes, I suppose that would be the apparent response."

"Then, what would _you_ do to accomplish that?" Matthew and Arthur reached a table in the cafeteria and took their seats.

"…I guess I would probably visit the store every day until they remember me." _Yes_. Arthur thought, _that would be the most logical thing to do._

"Hmm…That's one way…" Nevertheless, Arthur could sense the look of distance in Matthew's eyes. It was a look he recognized well; the one he'd always put up when he was thinking about Alfred, "…If it were _me_, I'd become the manager of another popular shop with the intention of rivalling his store…"

_What a strange answer_…Arthur shook off the thought, after all, it was Matthew; he's always had unique ways of figuring things out.

"A-anyways," Matthew stammered, probably aware of his mind trailing off, "…_your_ love life must be going _great_…"

Feeling his face heat up, he almost knocked himself over trying to reply, "…W-w-what do you mean?"

"Oh, you know…" Matthew winked and nudged Arthur with his elbow, "…we came home early from our resort trip before the break ended. You have pretty good vocals, Arthur."

"…Fuck."

"_That_, isn't all we know." At this time smirking at Arthur, Matthew laughed and whipped out his cell phone, shaking it mockingly at his face.

"…I call dibs on your maid of honour. Alfred said that being the best man was a position only a 'hero' could fill"

Covering his face with his hands, overly embarrassed, Arthur could only generate a subdued reply, "…_he_ told you, didn't he?"

Arthur felt a pat on his back, Matthew giggling, "…texted us right when you were asleep."

For once, Arthur was glad that Francis was gone for the whole day today.

* * *

"But Fathe-"

"I will hear _none_ of your excuses. I warned you, did I not? You _know _what that chain represents in our family, yet you give it away to a mere commoner so recklessly! If you had gone along with my plan, then none of this would have ever happened!"

Slamming his fist against his father's desk, Francis yelled in rage, "I am well aware of my actions! That 'commoner' of which you speak is ten times more superior to _any_ of those candidates you chose for me! The life plan you had prepared for me brought me nothing. My only dream was to perfect my skills and work at a high class restaurant, with someone who actually _cares_ enough."

There was a gleam in Mr. Bonnefoy's eyes, something that Francis was so eager to avoid. He knew however, that he had to face this moment, or else.

"Leave." He hissed out, his eyes fixated on the paper weight on his desk, his only gesture a point towards his office doors; he said nothing more.

And neither did Francis. He angrily burst through the hall eyes blurred with anger; he couldn't see a thing, until he crashed head first into someone else.

"Ah…" The figure slowly came into focus, "…I…sorry…"

Broken English, a feminine voice, and once his brain could work out the stature, he recognized her as the girl from that time at the restaurant, Jeanne.

Helping her up, as it was the least he could do, he quickly composed himself and apologized, "I am sorry, I was in a hurry to leave."

Jeanne and Francis picked themselves off the ground and laughed nervously to each other.

"Oh, well…" Jeanne fumbled with her hands shyly, "…may I escort you to your ride?"

Seeing no reason to refuse, he didn't want to hurt the poor girl's feelings. He had learned from Arthur some days ago, that a "true gentleman" does not make women cry.

"_Oui_, I do not mind."

* * *

The walk to the parking lot was a somewhat long one, and on the way, the two began to talk.

"…You never did answer my question, Mr. Francis."

The girl was funny, yes, her innocence being exposed as a minority in an all English speaking country amused him some, "You may call me Francis, and as for your question, I assume my father has already told you. It is in fact what it appears; I am in a relationship with that man you saw that evening."

She was shocked; Francis glanced over at her, noticing the slight hurt in her eyes.

"…You are very strange, Francis."

"Hmm?"

What he heard was pleasant, this girl he had known for a few years, had enough strength to profess, "You fall in and out of love so quickly, almost as if you know exactly what will happen in the end. But, you fail to remember that this is not a folk story; you will not have a fairy god mother to magically vanish all your foes. A happy ending is almost impossible to achieve."

As they reached the parking lot, Francis was stunned by Jeanne's sudden lecture, "That is very profound of you, Jeanne."

"Yes, well…" It was almost like they were back in Paris, reminiscing of old times, "…I believe we all have our special someone out there in the world. We just haven't met them yet. So, I give you my sincerest blessing." She bowed.

As Francis unlocked the door to his car, he looked at her with sad sympathetic eyes, "…I will be honest; once upon a time, I did fall 'in love' with you. I've realized, since then that it was simply an infatuation. That 'love' that I felt, was a love of _being_ in love."

Stepping into his car, he shut the door and turned the ignition on. Waving a small goodbye to Jeanne, he drove off.

It was only until after he left the lot that she cried.

"_Monsieur Francis, our years are gone. You have changed."_

_

* * *

_

"_The god of my idolatry."_

**POLL: **There is a new story I may be posting up soon, I will need your help to vote on a pairing. Please visit my profile and vote._  
_


	18. Chapter 17

**UPDATE: **Updates will be approximately every Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday of the week because I'm in my last year of high school.

* * *

Weekends at the college weren't exactly as the brochure presented. No swimsuit models, no glorious waterfall in the back; just a plain green campus. The couple spent their weekend morning sleeping in, cuddled together in bed until Arthur's stomach growled complaining that it was dying of starvation.

Francis took the liberty of pre-cooking their breakfasts the night before, so all Arthur had to do was warm it up in the microwave, and eat.

Setting the microwave to one minute, Arthur crossed his arms and tapped one foot on the ground impatiently. Although he rather enjoyed cooking for himself, it often resulted in one of three things: being forced to swallow something burnt to the core, having the fire department come over for the umpteenth time; directing him (as always) on kitchen safety, and lastly, having a friend eat his food during mystery meat Friday; choosing Arthur's "creations" as the lesser of ten evils.

_Beep._

"_Finally._"

Removing the steaming bowl of soup from the microwave, he turned around carefully, only to see Francis patting his lap signalling for Arthur to sit.

Blushing, he figured that since no one was around, it wouldn't hurt to spend some quality time with his boyfri-

_Fiancé. _

That's right, they were recently _engaged; as Francis pulled his chair back_, Arthur sat comfortably on his lap; a perplexed look featured across his face. He found himself playing with his soup with a spoon for a bit, still in thought.

_Betrothed, Engaged, Tying the Knot, Affianced. _

No matter how many times he said it, they all sounded the same; they would actually be _together_.

When Arthur had finished his soup, their room grew silent; sitting on the bed, his fingers lightly traced the calligraphic title on the cover of his favourite play. He always kept it by his bedside just in case.

Francis stood up to stretch his back. Aware of the sudden movement, Arthur looked towards Francis' direction, earning him a wink and a mischievous smile. Arthur blushed, and quickly hid his gaze to the left.

Sighing heavily before dropping his arms, he waltzed over to Arthur coming up from behind to hug him.

"_Cher_…" he mumbled lovingly into his hair, "…It is still early, I would like to take you out today."

Arthur's eyes instantly lit up; perhaps it was the endless hours of boredom they spent, but he was willing to do almost anything to get out of the house.

They decided to go to the mall; where else would a couple bored to tears go on a Saturday afternoon? Linking their arms together, Francis gently coaxed Arthur into a side of the mall that he was strangely unfamiliar with, and into yet another alienated store at the crook of the mall.

Arthur examined the store with curious eyes; pretty simple, metallic colour-scheme, but something about the shop's name piqued his interest.

" '_Estamos comprometidos' _…What the hell is that?" Arthur blinked awkwardly, accidently biting his tongue attempting to pronounce the name. All he could piece together, however, was that they were both in front of a metallic-styled store, with some foreign name.

"It means 'we are engaged' in Spanish." Before Arthur could press on further for more details about the small store, Francis held him by the hand and dragged him inside.

Upon entering, the motion sensor let out two friendly _beeps_, alerting the owner of the new customers' arrival. Arthur cautiously huddled closer to Francis as they ventured to the front; the last store he took him too made him extremely _wary_ about this one.

Just then, an overly excited man emerged from the store's back room. He was about Francis' height, brown hair, green eyes, he almost appeared to combust and radiate with happiness. This did _not_ make Arthur feel any better about the situation.

The man walked from around the front desk, and greeted Francis with a pat on the back, and a high five. "_…Okay…"_ Arthur thought, "_…those two seem…close."_

Scowling, he protectively tightened his hold on Francis' hand, when a peculiar feeling shot through him; the exact same one he felt when he first met _that girl_.

Of course, that night had already passed, and he had forgotten all about her. That goes without saying; it didn't change that feeling in his gut that always seemed to hurt, every time someone even _tried_ being intimate with Francis.

_That was _his_ job, naturally._

"_Hola!_ My name is Antonio!" The man energetically thrust his hand through the air to vigorously shake Arthur's.

"…A-Arthur. It's nice to meet…you?" He was still uncertain about which category to place him in as of yet; nice people generally where put into his "accepted" list, although, this one might not…

He flashed Arthur a thumbs up; "You can trust me! No problem!"

Feeling a slight tightness crushing his hand, Francis gently pet Arthur's head; he usually wasn't very good with strangers or making new friends for that matter.

"_Cher_, it is alright. He, Gilbert and I went to the same international school back when I lived in Europe."

Thoroughly unconvinced, Arthur decided to ease up a bit while cautiously watching his back.

"He is a shy one, No?" Antonio smiled as he walked back and pulled a box out from behind the glass case beside him.

"So!" He began cheerfully, "…which ones did you want?"

"_What 'ones'…?"_ Arthur peered into the box that Antonio opened, revealing a variety set of different rings.

His eyes widening into the size of dinner plates, Arthur was speechless. Obviously enough, however, he had developed a sense of what was about to happen.

"…u-uhm…gah..hm." As much as he tried, no words would come out. Francis laughed lightly and dove right into the situation.

"You wanted a ring, _oui_? I will buy a set for us."

Arthur was appalled, yet flattered at the same time. Only Francis would go so far as to further solidify their bond.

"So, if you two are going to keep staring at each other, you will not be able to find a pair!"

Both blushing, Arthur looked into the box, hoping to find something that suited his taste; practical, but not flashy, simple and elegant; not something that comes remotely close to resembling "hooker jewellery".

Arthur spotted one in particular that he liked very much. Antonio lifted the ring from its protective pillow and lifted it up in the air, so that the light glimmered off the top of the small diamond.

"…Split band, princess cut, round diamonds. I see you've taken a liking to it." Antonio smiled proudly, handing the ring over to Arthur for additional examination.

It certainly glowed nicely, even when it was removed from the "blue foil" of light. It was simple, well-designed, and pleasing to the eye.

"…I think that it's beautiful…" Mesmerized still by the band, Antonio spoke up, "…Yes, it was made in Italy, my own spouse made it himself." He sure was proud of that fact, Arthur judged by the look of sheer admiration on his face. His eyes then lowered down to the price tag; "_Woah. That's a lot of zeroes…"_

But before he had any time to react, Francis had already pulled out his card, following Antonio to the register to purchase a pair. Arthur ran for his life but unfortunately tripped over a loose extension cord; Francis catching him before he hit the ground head first.

"W-wha-? N-no! T-those are expensive! You're insane!" Arthur swung his arms around frantically emphasizing his statement.

"…expensive? _Cher_, it does not seem expensive to me…" Francis had a genuine look of confusion as he stared at Arthur's worried face.

_Then it dawned on him._

"_Oh right. He's rich."_ But that couldn't be right; his father had already threatened to disown and disinherit him the moment they would be wed.

"..I-I..uh…" Arthur stammered, feeling totally useless and dim-witted. Francis proceeded with the transaction.

"Do not worry, if I am to be cut off, we might as well max out his credit cards." Receipt in the bag, Antonio beamed happily at the couple as Francis slipped the smaller ring onto Arthur's left ring finger, and the slightly larger one on his.

"Voilà! Now we match!" He lovingly took up Arthur's left hand, and filled the spaces between his fingers with his own.

Now, it was symbolic.

After a few hearty goodbyes with Antonio, the couple left the store, and decided to leave for home early; probably invite Alfred and Matthew over, and spend some time with friends.

On their way out, Arthur saw a gleam of silver and hot pink shoot by his peripheral vision. Then, blushing a hot, hot shade of red, he gently tugged on Francis' shirt with his free hand, and motioned towards the small booth to the side of the exit.

Francis knowingly smiled and followed as Arthur pushed him into the small space, putting eight dollars into the machine's slot.

Sure, they had taken many pictures before they were together, as a pair, and in a group with Matthew and Alfred; but never once had they taken a picture of just the two of them, as a couple.

The first picture they took was cutesy; Francis behind Arthur, arms around his shoulders. The next photo was a little more ridiculous; Arthur sticking his tongue out at Francis as the other reciprocated.

When it came to their final picture, they were stuck on thinking of a new pose; having to also think under pressure due to the timer in the right hand corner of the screen.

With five seconds left on the clock, Francis thought on his feet and grabbed both of Arthur's shoulders with his hands, turning him so that they faced each other and were sideways to the camera; kissing him square on the lips, Arthur still with wide eyes as the camera flashed.

Pulling back from Arthur with a slight _hum_, he chuckled and left the booth to wait for the pictures to print.

This would be a memory that they would keep forever.

* * *

After dividing up the photos evenly, they arrived back home around dinner time, and invited their _loving_ neighbours inside to share the meal.

Arthur of course, insisted on preparing said meal, and arrived at the table with a hearty steaming bowl of-

"Borsch. Eat up!" He stuck the serving spoon into the thickly viscous mixture of beets and other unidentifiable ingredients and filled each bowl to the brim with the soup.

"_Cher_, I will save my portion for later; I am still full from our lunch at the mall." Quickly taking the bowl of "borsch" to store in the fridge.

"Okay!" Sooner or later, they would all have to eat it anyways. Matthew had no excuse. While Arthur turned around to tuck his apron away in a cupboard, he drenched the bowl with maple syrup (he made sure to bring a litre or two just in case) and ate away—trying to ignore the strange burning sensation at the back of his throat.

Alfred however, just sat at his seat, staring downwards at the bowl. Not wanting to seem rude, Matthew asked him, "A-Al? A-a-aren't you going to eat your borsch?"

"Fuck no. That shit's nasty."

Matthew face palmed; he couldn't really scold him for that; being pretty close to the truth, he was always so blunt about these things.

Instead, he raised his glass of water, "A toast!" Matthew figured it'd be best to change to something simpler, "Congratulations on your engagement!"

"Yeah!" Alfred yelled out, "I never thought I'd live to see the day! You're actually getting _married_! I always thought that a watermelon would be the only thing to plant its seeds in you!"

Matthew sighed; this was going to be a long night.

But Arthur got angry; as always, and Alfred snubbed him off; as always.

The time moved on.

* * *

"Woo Hoo! Movie night! Let's get us some popcorn and stick that disk in!" Alfred was more than pumped to watch a new horror film he had rented.

Half way through the film Alfred curled himself up with Mattie trembling in tears as the music grew louder with suspense.

Oh, but Matthew-dearest was enjoying each second of the movie. Having Alfred hold him close every time a screamer scene popped up was the greatest thing that could ever happen during their movie night.

But as expected; Alfred deemed himself Matthew's "hero" and claimed to protect him every which way; no matter what.

Matthew would always comply by faking his fear.

_The things they do for love…_

_

* * *

_

The killer was going to be announced. Francis and Arthur had a thick comforter around them, Francis with his arm around Arthur's shoulders; obviously shivering.

The woman walked through the hall in dead silence, slowly heading towards her room, the music began to drift in; moving her hand towards the knob, turning and hearing the click that unlocked the door, she pushed it open and-

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

Alfred let out a "manly scream" as the dorm's door bell followed right after.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Came three colourful words from Matthew; most likely deaf in one ear thanks to his paranoid boyfriend.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "…Calm down. It's just someone at the door."

"YEAH 'SOMEONE'." Alfred hugged Matthew closer; like how a child would squeeze a plush toy close in fear.

Francis went to answer the door; he wasn't phased much by Alfred's movie.

Upon opening the door, he saw someone unexpected.

"M-Ms. J-Jeanne?"

"Ah! _Oui_. Francis…it is late, but…may I-I s-s-speak with you, _s'il vous plait?" _

Francis did not want to alarm Arthur, so he quickly motioned for her to speak quickly.

Too bad Arthur had walked towards the door fast enough to hear.

"…_I-I am pregnant. And it is your child."_

_

* * *

_

"_Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,  
That I shall say good night till it be morrow."_

**POLL: **Check on my profile to vote for the next story's pairing.


	19. Chapter 18

Those words would not stop echoing inside Arthur's head; the girl standing at the entrance looked right at him, sympathetically. The whole room grew still, nothing but the blaring sound of the television as the credits rolled on screen. Alfred was about to stand up and start yelling for his best friend, but was stopped when Matthew threw the loose blanket over them and putting a finger to his lips.

"_Shh…" _He lifted the cover slightly so that they could both see the scene, _"…this isn't our fight."_

The spectators watched as the air around the three figures thickened in suspense. Francis was the first to speak. "…I am sorry, but I do not ever remember being intimate with you from the first moment we met. It is impossible."

Eyes still scanning the floor, Jeanne smiled almost politely as she cautiously replied, "…I-it was very possible, Francis."

He had a twinge of annoyance in his voice, his eyes glowering, "Then please give us your explanation."

Lifting her eyes from the ground, she fidgeted nervously with the beads on her bracelet, something obviously pushing on her mind, "…It was last year, before you decided to cancel our engagement. You had gone out with some friends and got drunk; I believe you can piece the rest from there."

Beside Francis, Arthur was not taking any of what he heard too well. First Francis' father, and now _this_? Sure, he had nothing personal against the girl, but, he was angry at the fact that life would not let things go as he had planned.

Francis combed his fingers through his hair in deep thought. Sighing, he opened the door wider and gestured for Jeanne to come in. If they didn't get all the information that they could from her, they would be defenceless against any of the other family members.

She took a seat on the couch in front of the television, one leg crossed over the other as she sat a properly awaiting further conversation from Francis.

Under the blanket shield, Alfred was all but ready to jump out and attack the poor girl while Matthew so desperately tried to calm him down by sitting on his lap. Normally, the intimate motion would work on Alfred almost instantly, however, this time it was taking Matthew much more work than simply seating himself on top of his boyfriend.

"…Who sent you here?" Arthur voice held spite and anger.

Not wishing to make any more eye contact with Francis' _current_ fiancé, she timidly answered him, "…No one, I sent myself…"

Francis at the moment saw nothing of good use to their case. It would be pointless to press her for any more details. She could be lying; maybe the pregnancy test was wrong. He needed to settle this issue before it got too out of hand. He checked the clock _one fifty three. _

His father's flight would leave in ten hours; he had time.

"…I will go speak to my father about your situation, because you are a good friend of our family, he may supply you with the finances to take care of this life." He turned to Alfred and Matthew, "The nurse in the management building may still be available; please escort Ms. Jeanne there and request for a pregnancy test. I will return in a few hours."

With that, he swiftly took his coat from his bed and headed out the door.

Alfred stood up from his spot on the floor and looked towards the girl, "…We should go now, before her shift ends."

Jeanne apprehensively nodded to herself and followed Alfred out the door, leaving Matthew alone to comfort Arthur.

* * *

Arriving at his father's company was easy to do (when he hit hard on the gas); he quickly shut the door and entered the building.

Confronting his father about _anything_ had always been difficult for Francis; this time it had be particularly dangerous, since it involved Arthur and his happiness. He got into the elevator and pressed the button for his father's office; the top floor.

Inside, he had to admit, standing inside the elevator with the stereotypical elevator music wasn't exactly helping his cause. "_Hurry…hurry…"_ he chantedin his mind, as if saying it over and over again would make the machine go any faster.

_Ding._

The top floor had been reached at last, the doors slowly opening as he prepared himself to run. Fully opened now, Francis darted fast out of the elevator to the end of the room, banging as loud as he could on the solid oak doors.

"They are open, let yourself in." His father's deep intimidating voice never seemed so forbidding until now. Francis straightened his posture, pushing the door open and walking right up to his father's desk.

Mr. Bonnefoy did not look up from his computer screen; he had his glasses on, and was typing furiously on his keyboard, completely content, and muttered in an uninterested tone, "…How may I help you, Francis?"

Francis gulped hard but soon collected himself, "...Jeanne is pr-"

"-Pregnant? Yes, I do know. Her mother called me yesterday."

He started to feel irritated at his father's calm nature towards this subject, "…Did you have something to do with this?"

Immediately, Mr. Bonnefoy stopped typing and removed his glasses clasping them to his shirt; he looked up to Francis, "…If I had, it would not matter, would it? You will still do as you wish with your life no matter what I say."

Francis clenched his fists together and glared intensely at his father, "...Then what do you propose I do?" Obviously, he was afraid of the answer.

Mr. Bonnefoy smirked and went back to typing, "It's simple, isn't it? _Take responsibility_."

"Excuse m-"

He was cut off abruptly, "…There is no more to it than that. If the child really is yours, then you will be the one responsible for its life; you will have to live with her until the child is born, and, if it belongs to you, there is no other option for you but marriage."

Francis was silent. What could he say to that? His father was _right_ for once_._

Mr. Bonnefoy added, "…I don't particularly hate that boy of yours…Arthur? Correct?" he once again removed himself from the keyboard and set his eyes on his son's, "…I haven't seen you this passionate about anything since I first taught you how to cook when you were young."

Francis, shocked by his father's words, didn't do anything by smile and nod; he turned to leave, walking in a brisk pace to make it out and home on time. He reached for the door knob and turned it, his father's voice echoing behind him as he took his first step out the door, "…I am proud of you."

* * *

Back at the dorm, Arthur buried his face into Fluffy's mane, sniffling quietly as Matthew patted his back.

"…Don't worry, things will work out. I promise." Matthew was always the best as keeping the peace between anyone, and giving good advice; overall he was just one of those friends that was _essential_ to have.

"B-but!" Came Arthur's muffled response, still sobbing silently; Fluffy still pushed against his face, "…He'll leave me!"

Matthew softly coaxed Fluffy out of Arthur's arms, so that they could talk face to face. Arthur's eyes were red and puffy; evidence of about two hours of crying.

"...He won't leave you." Matthew said soothingly, "…You _know_ he loves you too much to do that."

"I…_hic_…I guess…" Arthur rubbed his eyes, sniveling quietly as he did so.

"Arthur…" Matthew passed him a box of tissues from the night stand, to which Arthur greatly accepted and dried up his face, "…True love is when you shed a tear and still want them."

He laughed softly, "Think of all the happy thoughts and memories you have about him. Write them down; don't forget."

They laughed together; Matthew was right. If they were really meant to be, then they would. Arthur pulled out some notebook paper and a pencil, as Matthew went into the kitchen suggesting to make some maple tea, (he always carried a pack or two, just in case) something he thought would bring anyone happiness.

Arthur began to write:

_Dear Francis,_

_You will probably never see this letter, but I'm writing it anyways. To be honest, I'm not even sure how to start this off. So I suppose I'll just write about how I feel about you (being open about "that" is hard to talk about in person…but you won't actually see this, so it's okay.) _

_I like how you send me irrelevant text messages in class, even thought "normal" people could care less. _

_I like all the meals you cook for me every day, and how you always pretend to like anything I come up with. _

_I like how you "try" to help me with French homework, even though I have no clue as to what you're saying._

_I like how I can call you during your management class when I'm angry or upset. Sometimes you don't say much or anything at all, but just knowing that you're on the end of the line makes me happy._

_When I see you smile and know that it's not for me, that's when I miss you the most._

_I could go on and write a whole essay on you (although it's a very big topic)._

_I'm always afraid that you'll get tired of me, or think that I'm too plain, and walk out of my life. So I thank my lucky stars that I have you now. _

_Sincerely, Arthur_

_P.S: I love you the most._

_

* * *

_

Inside the infirmary, Jeanne and Alfred sat patiently in the waiting room, the results of the test almost ready to see.

It was awkward for Alfred; it wasn't like he wanted to take her here in the first place. But because it was for a friend, he thought he might as well.

"…Those test results sure are taking a while!" Alfred laughed nervously, though it was hard to make any jokes in this scenario.

"…Y-yes… they are…" Jeanne looked at her shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"…Alright, enough with the small talk." Matthew wasn't here to scold him, he felt bad for disobeying, but he had to get it out, "…Honestly, I'm not too fond of you, missy."

"…I do not blame you…" she shifted in her seat, something _small_ changed in her personality, "…in all actuality, I do not wish to be here."

Alfred looked at her questioningly, "…Huh? I thought you were in love with Francis, so you're going on a mad home wrecking spree for revenge."

She looked up and smiled at Alfred _almost_ with a genuine intention, "If you call wanting to move away from all _this_ and starting fresh somewhere else being 'in love' with him, then yes, I am."

Alfred _almost_ felt sorry for her, "…then why don't you do that? If you really don't love him, then why are you here?"

Hopelessly, she leaned back on her chair and groaned, "The world is too big, and naturally, I am afraid. I won't lie to you; I had once fallen in love with the boy I met three years ago, but those years are gone. I'm not sure what these feelings are any more. Love? Hate? Admiration? He is a good friend of mine; I do not wish to cause him any pain; I learned _that _lesson years ago. Now, my only dream is to get away."

Her words were mesmerizing, so full of a purity that even water couldn't reach. Alfred had never given it much thought; only hate, just hate for a girl who made Arthur cry, and Francis upset. But was it really her wholesome intention to do so?

She was just a girl, a human being just like himself; one, who was about his age, shared some similar experiences; heartbreaks, happy memories, regrets. He had forgotten what it was like to feel _human_.

So many things, she may have been deprived of, he could tell. She knew almost nothing about the world, yet she wished so longingly to be free. Instead, she was caged up and bounded, wings clipped; like a bird.

"…Well…" Alfred started to feel apologetic, "…_Real_ loss only occurs when you lose something you love; _more than yourself_. You do have something of that much value, right?"

It was rare for Alfred to say sappy things; he often hid it from Matthew and Arthur (being a romantic at heart).

Jeanne giggled and smiled brightly to herself, rubbing her stomach softly, "…Yes, there is."

Just then, the nurse came in, holding a clip board with the results.

Jeanne and Alfred stood up to read over the text; neither of them bothered much with what it said.

_Positive._

_

* * *

_

When Francis had returned home, he found the door to the dorm unlocked. Walking inside, he saw a note stuck on the fridge from Matthew.

"_Left early, Arthur's sleeping in your bed. Night stand drawer. _

_-Matthew"_

That was understandable enough, except… "Night stand drawer"? What did Matthew mean by that?

He walked over to the bed, Arthur cuddled with Fluffy underneath the comforter. He lifted Arthur ever so lightly so that he could have room to sleep beside him.

Francis sat on the edge of his side of the bed, the night stand beside him taunting him. Opening the drawer, he noticed a light blue envelope with his name written in sloppy calligraphy. Was this what Matthew meant?

He lifted the flap and pulled out a small sheet of folded stationary; his eyes began to scan each word.

Francis re-read the note over again, smiling as each word became more and more _real_.

He carefully put the sheet back as it was before, then slowly slipping into the blanket with Arthur.

Stealing a kiss softly, he whispered_, "In my dreams, and in my world, you are mine forever."_

_

* * *

_

"_These__ violent delights have violent ends."_


	20. Chapter 19

"_Well, it's positive." Alfred announced, walking back into the dorm with Matthew following slowly behind him. The two came back to visit the next morning but were late due to the janitor scolding them for walking on his freshly mopped floor. Hopefully now, most of the issues would and could be cleared up._

_Arthur did _not_ look happy, "…What are we going to do now?" he said groggily, stroking the fur on Fluffy's head. In the past, Francis had made a mental note of how Arthur "voiced" his inner emotions. Right now, although he was tired on the outside, when he continuously held his plush unicorn close, he knew Arthur felt insecure; scared. He had absolutely no idea what to do._

"…_Perhaps…" Matthew began, "…because we do not know who the child's real father is as of yet, we will have to wait for it to be born, get a paternity test done, and cross _that_ bridge when we get to it."_

"…_Oui…" Francis nodded solemnly, very much pained, but he knew it needed to be done, "…that would be the best solution."_

_Even now, as many times as Francis thought it over, he never could remember actually _sleeping_ with Jeanne, never mind getting drunk and going _to her_. The whole story just seemed so contradicting to him…_

"…_That isn't for a while though!" Alfred tried, seeing Arthur shaking, holding back tears, "everything will be okay! You have each other right _now_ so don't cry, okay?"_

"…_o-okay." Arthur mumbled under his breath, falling back on the bed sleepily as Francis pulled the covers over Arthur to keep him warm._

_And so, the four agreed, that until that moment's arrival, they would go on with the rest of their week._

_

* * *

_"…And this…" The math professor concluded, writing four large letters on the blackboard, "…is called the 'CAST rule'."

"How the fuck am I supposed to remember that?" Alfred huffed stubbornly in his desk, glaring daggers at the teacher. Matthew leaned against him sleepily, "…CAST Al, there are small words you can use to remember it. I use 'ASTC' or 'Add Sugar To Coffee'."

"But Mattie! I don't even like sugar in my coffee!" Alfred whined, tapping the eraser on the tip of his pencil against Arthur's head in front of him.

Irritated, Arthur looked behind him and groaned, "…Would you fucking stop tapping me with that stupid pencil? And if you don't like that acronym make something else up!"

"Hmm…" Alfred contemplated, chewing on the tip of his pencil and squinting one eye, "…Okay! I got it!"

"And what would that be, _mon ami_?" Francis turned around also in his seat beside Arthur, curious as to what nugget of wisdom Alfred had come up with this time.

"Heroes like me, always have a plan! 'ASTC'! or _'All Strippers Take Cash'_!" Alfred exclaimed proudly, earning him the reward of a hard punch on the arm from Matthew, and disappointing looks from both Francis and Arthur.

Once the bell rang the four of them darted towards their history class; a class that they also coincidently had together.

* * *

"…All right, everyone. Stand by your desk! And do _not _sit down!" Their history professor asserted loudly; he was one of the few teachers that the four _did_ like.

"Today we will be learning about some of the world's greatest countries, and how they relate to each other. But, before we get started…" He turned to Alfred with a distressed look, obviously not expecting much from his student, "…Mr. Jones, have yo-"

Alfred feigned shocked, "As a professional educational instructor, you should know about our morals! Should _I _get in trouble for something I didn't do?"

"Well, no, you shouldn't."

"That's good, 'cause I didn't do my homework!" He nodded to himself; unfortunately, his teacher would not have any of his "logic" in this classroom.

"…Next class, please, Mr. Jones."

Alfred waved him off, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Okay!" The professor started, energetically ready for the lesson, he explained, "Today, we will go over four different countries: The United States, Canada, England and France."

Hand outs were placed on their desks, followed by Alfred's constant cheering for his favourite country.

"…Let's try visualizing this a bit differently." The teacher looked around the room, "…Since we are fortunate enough to have some students previously from these countries…you four…" He pointed towards the couples at their desks, "…get up here, please."

Confused and somewhat intrigued, Arthur was the first to walk up, followed by Francis, Alfred, and then Matthew.

He tapped each of them on the shoulder, "Arthur, will be personifying England, Francis as France, Alfred as America, and Matthew as Canada. Using your knowledge of your home country, try to act out how the countries would relate today."

Even more confused than before, they stood there for a few awkward moments, then suddenly, Alfred tackle hugged Matthew, "Canada! I love you!" He snuggled up against the bright red-in-the-face boy, who wasn't doing much to fight back.

"Love you, love you, love you!" He sang loudly, causing everyone in the room to erupt with awe; it wasn't uncomfortable for them to act as a couple in front of anyone at their school, as they all had gotten used to the two a long time ago. Now, everyone thought that it was just so darn "a_dork_able".

"_My Canada_'s so sweet! Like maple syrup! And hockey! And beavers! How I love you so!" He proclaimed sweetly, holding Matthew's body against his own rather protectively, Matthew took his turn to speak, "…That's because we're the only ones who can actually _deal_ with you." He answered playfully, leaning into the embrace.

"…You two are so…" Arthur rolled his eyes and pouted. Francis laughed, coming up behind him, and grabbing Arthur's left hand to spin him around, placed his own hand on Arthur's lower back for support.

"I believe that we should follow suit, _cher_…" He said smoothly, his voice suave.

Arthur was never one to show his displays affections in public (as much as he wanted to; and at this particular moment he _really_ wished that he could), instead, he acted on reflex, pushing Francis away, flailing his hands in the air, "Y-y-you!" He stomped on the ground slightly, "We're in a _public_ place!"

"Do not fret, _Angleterre_, as the country of _love, _I have an obligation to fulfil my role!" He once again pulled Arthur close and locked his arms around his waist.

Completely red with embarrassment (no matter how much he _loved_ it); it took Arthur all his strength to gently remove himself from Francis' grasp.

The classroom burst in laughter, as the professor clapped and directed them to return to their seats. Francis and Arthur quickly sat down, both relieved and self conscious about their scene in front of…well, just about everyone they knew.

"…Alfred, Matthew; there is no need to act any more. You may return to your desks." He alerted them promptly. Alfred wasn't listening.

"Canada, Canada, Canada!" He pushed Matthew up against the door, "…I love you so much! Let's make a _treaty_, yes? Yes!" He pushed himself against Matthew's lower regions gently, Matthew whimpering softly; this did _not_ go unnoticed by Arthur.

"WILL YOU TWO GET A FUCKING ROOM?" Arthur furiously narrowed his eyes at the couple, almost crushing the wooden pencil he was holding in his hands.

Matthew snapped out of his usual fantasy and looked towards Arthur, teary eyed, "I-I'm so sorry! A-again!"

In the end, Arthur really couldn't find the words to actually scold them with, seeing as he was still in class, and everyone including the teacher was staring at him in shock.

"…_Language, _please, Mr. Kirkland." He frowned, "…try to compose yourself."

From behind, Francis grabbed Arthur's hand from under the desk, hoping that the loving notion would somehow calm his fiancé down.

Luckily enough, Arthur backed down and relaxed his own hand into Francis'. The lesson continued.

* * *

When it came to lunch, the gang had trouble finding a table, so instead, had to sit under the huge picnicking tree in the back.

"…I don't like this stuff!" Spitting the cafeteria food out into his napkin, Alfred stealthily sneaked the bag sitting on Matthew's tray away, tearing off the top of the bag, and started munching rapidly at the contents.

"Al!" Matthew cried, snatching the bag back, "Those are _my_ ketchup chips!"

Alfred in return stole back the sack, teasingly sticking his tongue out, "But you don't even _like_ this flavour, Mattie! I'm being a good boyfriend and eating them for you!"

Giving up, Matthew sighed sarcastically, "…Gee, my hero."

"Yes I am!" He laughed as he continued chomping down on anything and everything in the bag until it was clean and empty.

Francis and Arthur were laughing subtly at the scene before them. Usually, before they had begun dating, they would individually find themselves becoming jealous of their friends. Now, they could say the same thing; they were just as happy as they were.

It had only been a few months, sure. But the more they spoke to each other, and the more time they spent together made all the more difference. While Alfred and Matthew privately held their moment together, Francis and Arthur started theirs.

"…I get jealous sometimes, just so you know…" Arthur said, leaning against Francis' shoulder, "…I feel like locking you up sometimes just so you won't leave…"

Francis chuckled to himself, letting his head rest on top of Arthur's, "I would never leave you, Arthur. I love you too much."

Arthur uncrossed his legs, shifting a bit so that he could stretch, "…I love you too…but it hurts too much…"

Running his free hand through Arthur's hair, Francis sympathetically brought their faces close and touched their foreheads together.

"…Love really shouldn't hurt, _cher_."

Looking off to his right, he noticed that Alfred and Matthew left without any notice, leaving them to their own business.

"…I always think… that even though it's great to have someone all to myself, I can't stop but think of the day when it'll all end…"

Francis had no reply to give, with a distant look in his eyes, he held Arthur tightly.

* * *

"_For stony limits cannot hold love out,  
And what love can do that dares love attempt."_


	21. Chapter 20

Once again, Francis had left early in the mid-afternoon to his management class, leaving Arthur in the dorm alone. The room was quiet, still, unbelievably _boring_.

It had been a few weeks since their almost "perfect life" was invaded, but even so, it got Arthur to thinking; and by "thinking" it meant that Arthur was emotionally distressed.

Francis took Pierre with him to his class today, claiming that the bird needed fresh air, as he had been stuck in his cage for a solid week. Alfred and Matthew had also gone out this day, like they always did.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours; _painfully boring hours_.

Lying down on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling, talking to himself; deep in thought.

"…I am so fucking bored." That much was obvious. He couldn't really go out; seriously, where would he go? He wasn't even allowed to visit Francis during his class.

Tossing himself over the bed slightly, he noticed that Fluffy had fallen over the edge, becoming a puffy lump of cotton stuffed polyester on the floor. Arthur reached down, grabbed him, and brought him up patting Fluffy's plush head affectionately.

"…I feel lonely…" He sulked, but suddenly feeling a strange wave of depression wash over him, he added, "…I'm not that great." Arthur never thought much about his low self esteem, usually pushing it away like it really didn't matter in the first place.

"…Why would he even like _me_?" Sure, he had gone over this multiple times with Pierre, or repeated it constantly in his head, but somehow, his heart never really got the message.

Arthur thought about it more, "…he could have _anyone_ he could ever want in this world; someone who's probably much more accomplished than me; someone that could actually support him financially…physically."

Arthur turned over to his over side, staring at his reflected image in the mirror hanging on their dorm room's wall.

He wasn't very muscular, thought he played some sports; he normally would only pass for an average player, a bench warmer. He was rather fit, though; his siblings would often tease him about his feminine-like figure, much to his displeasure. Therefore, he thought, "…_If I'm only of an average attractiveness, why would he choose me?_"

True, Francis would often call him "cute" and "sweet" thinking of random, strange and unusual pet names just see how much he would blush.

"…That _frog…_" he babbled softly, genuinely smiling as he buried his nose into Fluffy's mane. He breathed in the scent, so familiar and so _real_.

One day, while Francis was out grocery shopping for ingredients, Arthur had snuck into his closet and sprayed some of Francis' cologne over the unicorn; which always made him happy, though he would never admit it to _anyone;_ the fragrance offered Arthur a sense of comfort and wholesomeness. It reminded him that he might have actually found something more important than himself.

Then he thought of Jeanne; the poor girl only had Francis for the last three years of their relationship, and he often wondered what had happened between the two of them. He hated to acknowledge it… but somewhere in the back of his mind told Arthur that they actually looked good together.

_But looks really didn't mean much, right?_

So when Arthur prodded on this thought some more, he became clueless, and doubtful of himself.

"…I'm just a burden to him; there are so many problems now because I jumped into this picture. I don't belong here…"

He trembled, covering his eyes with his hands, "…what if that child is _his_?"

Arthur looked towards his nightstand, some papers scattered around, and his notebook lying on top. In the past, Francis would try to sneak a glance at Arthur while he was intensely writing something in that book. He would never let Francis see though; trying to assure him that it wasn't anything interesting. What made matters worse, was that if Francis ever truly _saw_ his notebook, he would not hear the end of it.

It had nothing to do with homework, or daily plans, or useful lectures he may or may not use on Alfred and Matthew. The seventy page spiralled book was filled with nothing but poorly doodled hearts with their names. Of course, the designs differed on each page, but the message was all the same.

He wanted to get up and make tea; make something—anything to ease his pain.

"…How the _hell _did we manage to end up together? It's merely a series of coincidences arranged by fate."

Alas, no amount of tea could help him now.

Now angry, Arthur chucked a pillow as hard as he could towards the door, which, in synchronized time, revealed a shocked yet mildly amused, Francis.

"_Cher,_ I do not think the pillow did anything regrettably dreadful to you." He laughed, struggling to close the door behind him while trying to juggle the bags of groceries in his arms.

When he finally succeeded in closing it, he beamed in pride, "Today I will make some vegetable dishes!"

Arthur tried to force a smile, "…S-sounds good…!"

From the way he was acting, Francis was sure that Arthur wasn't feeling well, but he guessed that because he wasn't present, Arthur had just woken up from a nap and was merely tired and drowsy.

* * *

Arthur lay back down onto the bed, tossing and catching Fluffy up and down as the aroma of vegetable stir fry filled the room.

As Francis continued to prepare the dish, he set the stove to medium heat as he spoke, "You are very quiet today, Arthur."

"…_fuck. He noticed_." Arthur really didn't feel the need to voice out any of his opinions or ideas prior to when Francis came home; his mood had sunk substantially low, and he wasn't in the right frame of mind to be speaking anyways, "…Yeah, sorry."

Leaving it at that for the time being, Francis arranged their meals accordingly, and placed their plates and glasses on the dining table.

As he sat down, he watched Arthur from the other side of the room intently, staring amusingly at the ground; comically entertained by this, Francis pushed the chair across from him away from the table with his foot, signalling for Arthur to join him and eat.

Doing so, Arthur took his place across Francis and began to consume the meal.

The table was quiet; something that was uncommon and rare. Arthur thought nothing of it, wanting nothing more than to simply finish up, and get to bed.

Francis couldn't stand the silence around them sensing that something was slightly off with Arthur today; he hesitantly dropped his fork and knife, and called out to him, "…Arthur…? Are you feeling well? Did you catch a cold?"

Arthur continued to eat, not very aware of his surroundings, or the atmosphere that clouded them, "…Yes, I'm fine…don't worry about it…"

The air remained still, Francis clearly trying to get some truth out of Arthur, and obviously, failing at his goal.

"…Look at me, Arthur." He leaned in, trying to meet Arthur's eyes; but his lover kept them down at his plate of vegetables like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"_So something is wrong, then._" Francis concluded, with all his reasoning, he could only imagine that Arthur was upset with _that_.

He stared as Arthur felt those eyes watching him, dropping his eating utensils onto the plate and pushing everything towards the middle, "…I'm full…"

This was a shock; Arthur had always finished every single piece of food he made, so to Francis, it felt almost insulting, especially since it was coming from _Arthur_.

"…Then I will save your portion for later, _oui_?" He slowly asked, warily, not wishing to poke into some sensitive topics that Arthur may be hiding from him. Francis walked to their kitchen, and wrapped the plate with plastic wrap, then placed the food near the front of the first shelf inside the refrigerator.

"Right…" Arthur kept his head down, dragging himself over to their closet and pulling out fresh clothes to sleep in.

Slyly, Francis snuck up to his rear enveloping Arthur with a hug from behind; flinching, Arthur did nothing else but continued to change clothes.

"…Arthur? If something is bothering you, you may tell me." Francis whispered, a worried tone filtering through, "…_is_ there something wrong?"

Arthur pushed Francis away desperately; he really did not want to deal with it right now.

"…it's nothing. Ignore it."

But Francis would not disregard this matter, "I know there is something wrong, and you should be able to tell me. Do you not trust my judgement?"

"…it's not that, really." Arthur dully replied, if anything, he just wanted to get some rest.

"Not really? Then you do not trust _me_?" He roughly hissed out, "I care about your well being, and if you do not tell me if something in your life is troubling you, how am I supposed to support you?"

"…I don't know!" Arthur screamed out, his head pounding, as he clutched a fistful of hair angrily, "It's just so _fucking _problems!"

"What problems?" Francis yelled out, with equal voice and irritation, "If you do _not_ tell me any specific details, then how am I supposed to know?"

"Everything was fine!" Slumping onto the bed, Arthur groaned loudly into a pillow, "and it will turn out fine for everyone else except _me!_"

"_Except you_? Arthur, you are not perhaps referring to the fact that the child Jeanne is carrying could be _mine,_ are you?" He thought he had explained this to Arthur a long time ago, but of course, with his hard-headed and stubborn attitude, his soothing words probably had an expiration date. To which at the end of the limit, he had to deal with the aftermath.

"What else could the problem be? Because of this, we may never even see each other again!" He screamed, tears more than already pouring out, "You'll just leave me _for her!"_

Arthur's words enraged Francis, and without any sort of restraint, he did not hold himself back as he shouted out forwardly, "…Then you really have no faith in me. I thought we were stronger than this; I suppose I was wrong."

Angrily, Francis slipped into their bed, his back facing Arthur; and vice versa.

He added, "…Once upon a time, I met a boy who believed in me."

* * *

That night, neither of them could sleep, and at a quarter past one in the morning, Arthur was desperately trying to make an effort to suppress his sobs into his pillow.

Hearing the quiet hiccups and feeling Arthur shift uncomfortably every couple seconds, Francis flipped over to face Arthur, tenderly turning him over so that they were now facing each other, Francis sported an apologetic look, Arthur more panicked now, hurriedly whined, "I'm sorry!" as Francis pet him gently on the head, "I am sorry too, _cher_."

Feeling relieved, Arthur blushed and boldly brought his face close to Francis', and, as if by some "telepathic connection" he knew what that meant, and closed the distance between their lips.

The kiss was sweet, innocent, sincere, everything that Arthur could ever hope for after their very first fight.

But something felt different; much to his dismay…

_This kiss was a little off to the side of his lips._

* * *

"_Seal with a righteous kiss  
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!"_


	22. Chapter 21

As the day progressed, Arthur and Francis tried their best to ignore that _event, _with a few awkward silences and nervous bursts of laughter. This routine went well for the first few days, yet, this didn't stop the ongoing string of guilt that hung between them from choking their hearts.

_You can't make crap worse._

But that wasn't even the punch of the week; what made it so was that this specific day, was _valentines._ What hurt the most wasn't that Francis wasn't talking to Arthur, but that every time that they tried, Francis it ended the exact same way: "…I think that I may have some work to finish up." which would be followed by a recently acquired counterfeit smile.

"I cannot believe this!" Francis groaned, slamming his half full cup of coffee onto the kitchen table. "It is my entire fault! Arthur must hate me now!" Matthew sighed, picking up a rag to wipe up the puddles of caffeine from his and Alfred's floor.

"He doesn't hate you; he's just sensitive." Once the remnants of the spill were swabbed up, Alfred dropped his gaming console angrily and pulled out a seat beside Francis to sit.

"…Stupid turtle things. I get a fire flower and it's GAME OVER!" Matthew slapped him playfully on the head, "…That's not important right now, Al. If you haven't noticed, Francis and Arthur haven't spoken to each other in _weeks_."

Alfred pouted, "So? Just go slap his ass suggestively and you'll be fine!"

Francis banged his forehead on the table mumbling, "…I am afraid that a simple loving gesture will not fix our miscommunication…"

As Matthew washed their mugs in the sink, he shut the tap off for a moment and dried his hands, "…Al, you do know what _today_ is, yes?"

"…Thursday?"

"Yes, but what _else_?" Matthew pulled up his seat beside Alfred.

Pondering for a moment he stood up sharply as if an imaginary light bulb went off in his head, "Oh, yeah! Shower Sex Thursday is every second month!"

_Face palm._

"…Check the calendar, Al." Matthew pointed at the fridge, narrowing his eyes at Alfred.

Francis and Matthew watched as he strut over to the door, and leaned down, squinting his eyes a bit to read the fine print under "February fourteen".

"Oh, _fuck_."

Matthew must have found his quite amusing, as he giggled to himself, watching Alfred kick and yell furiously at the machine.

"A-Al!" Matthew said between laughs, "…It's not the refrigerator's fault!"

"Hmph." Alfred slumped back into his seat, "…I'm a big supporter of threatening inanimate objects; to assert my independence."

At least Francis was feeling better, "_Mon ami,_ you must stop these strange habits. Your dear Matthew might someday find it unattractive!"

Trying his best to hold in his laughter, Matthew condescendingly pat Alfred's head, "You've been wearing American Eagle clothing for the past six years. Somehow, that just makes you look hotter."

Alfred faked a hair flip, "Of course! With my drop dead good looks, I'm the complete package!"

Francis rolled his eyes, "Let us not fail to remember your charismatic modesty!"

"I know!" He just about exploded with satisfaction, "I'm just that great!"

Glaring at Alfred, Matthew automatically spoke up, "Anyways…pushing _that _aside. You!" He pointed seriously at Francis, who flinched a bit at his friend's sudden strictness, "…need to find some clever way to make Arthur feel better."

To Francis, the simple statement was easier said than done; finding a way to cheer Arthur up was one thing, but they haven't had a regular conversation for a while, let alone something remotely romantic on Valentine's Day!

He bit down on his lower lip, "How will I do that?"

"You'll find a way, don't sweat the small details; just go with whatever you think feels right."

Matthew was right, as always. They've already been through so much; what's one more _minor_ problem? Then it dawned on him, like a sudden blow to the head, the perfect plan that could save their happiness. He only had one chance to get them to talk it out, even though he knew very well that Arthur didn't want to, or, would at least try to dodge the subject.

Francis stood up and stretched, his afternoon classes were about to start. As he was about to leave and bid them goodbye, Alfred voiced a quick, "good luck!" then feverously attacked Matthew, going in lips first, tackling him provocatively on to their floor.

_Francis shut the door as quickly as he could._

_

* * *

_

_Usually,_ management class was fun.

_Usually,_ management class was all he focused on.

_Usually, _management classdidn't have a theoretical hideously dark stormy rain cloud pouring down on his soul.

Not even the sight of Pierre waddling happily on his desk made him feel any better. He checked the clock, and concluded that Arthur had probably finished his classes and was wallowing in his own self-pity at their dorm.

When his professor had stopped the lecture, and gave him free time, Francis opened up his binder and tore of a sheet of lined notebook paper.

Francis also pulled out a black fountain pen that he normally would use to write his more important assignments with.

With a few more strokes and about two lines of text, Francis pulled the loose string of fabric he had used to tie his hair back and instead, rolled up the sheet of paper, and tied it to Pierre's right leg.

Pierre was more than excited now, after all, this was what he was bred to do originally. Francis whispered a few directions and specifications to Pierre, and pointed to an already open window near the emergency exit.

Like lightening, Pierre darted out the window and flew as fast as he could to their dorm.

When he arrived, he landed gracefully on their only windowsill, pecking violently at the scratched glass as soon as he saw Arthur pass by.

Alerted, Arthur rushed to open up the window to allow Pierre to hop inside. He immediately spot the rolled up note attached to the bird's leg, and quickly untied it from him to read it.

"_Cher, we need to talk. Please meet me on the roof as soon as you can."_

Well, this wasn't good. As far as Arthur was concerned, "we need to talk" translated to "Oh shit. My lover is going to break up with me."

It wasn't clear though, he realized as he read over the note, Francis' meaning of "talking" could be just about anything, really.

"That jerk." He murmured to himself, "…at least we'll finally talk, even if it's for a bit."

As Arthur got ready to leave, he snatched his essentials from off the table; his dorm key, cell phone, and wallet.

* * *

"…Damn it. I forgot how long those stairs were." Arthur leaned down and held onto the stair railing for support; it had been a while since his last visit to the roof, and as he recalled, it wasn't with a _good intention_.

"One…more…f-floor…" Panting, with heavy breathes, Arthur finally reached the top step.

"…I really need to work on my cardio." Arthur finally caught his breath and opened the door to the roof, only to have it hitch back into the back of his throat again.

The view he saw was _unique_; nothing like he had ever seen before, but, when he saw hundreds of rose petals scattered across the roof's pavement, the wind pushing some loose ones around him, and Francis in the centre of it all, he couldn't help but stare in awe.

Now, opinions may differ on what it takes to think of constructing such a spectacle, and on _Valentine's Day_, no less. From a scale of one to ten, this had definitely hit high up there on the Richter scale; at least, In Arthur's mind.

In any case, there they were a small blizzard of red flitting around them, as well as an undying silence.

Francis took a deep breath and held his hand out to Arthur, who gradually walked towards him and took his hand. Leading him to the edge of the roof, the two stood at the bars, and stared downwards, Francis still staring from the height, speaking to Arthur, "…You do remember, _Oui_?"

"Hmm? Remember what?" Arthur lifted his eyes from the cold cement and turned his head to face Francis, suddenly remembering, "…Oh. Yeah, _that._"

"What made you want to jump?" Francis was curious about this. Sure, it had crossed his mind several times since their first meeting, but never had he gathered any courage to ask him about it.

Just _being_ on the roof made it difficult for Arthur to keep his emotions in line; It was an awful event for him that day, climbing over the steel bars, feeling the wind pass by with time, and finally, letting go.

Francis felt Arthur's hand tense up, so he carefully brought him into a hug; something they weren't able to do for a long while.

"You will never really lose me, _cher_."

Arthur leaned into the hug, a feeling of relief washing over the both of them, "…how would you know?"

Francis laughed, and pulled back slightly, touching their foreheads together, "I know because, you are stubborn and childish, and steal things without any care to what anyone thinks."

_Steal?_ His fiancé was definitely an unusual one. Normally, he would blame the fact that he was French, and the two were supposedly "arch enemies", but, he couldn't help but be attracted to him for some godly unknown reason.

"…I've never stolen anything…unless, you mean that shirt I borrowed a few months ago…then I'll just give it ba-"

Suddenly cut off from finishing his sentence by a pair of warm lips over his, Arthur quickly melted into the kiss, savouring each second of the moment. Then, when he felt a wet appendage gently brush over his bottom lip, he instinctively gasped as Francis deepened their performance.

After the two had pulled back due to lack of oxygen, Francis added an extra peck on Arthur's lips, "_Je t'aime de tout mon Coeur._"

Arthur already had a pretty good idea of what that meant, but pouted anyways and asked, "…english, please?"

"'I love you with all of my heart'; you have stolen it, and locked it up."

"…jerk."

"but I am _your _'jerk'"

"I suppose so." Arthur relaxed into Francis' arms, "…so…are we okay now?"

"Of course we are!" He took Arthur's hand and led him down the stairwell, "Now, let us go back to our dorm."

As they were walking down, Arthur found himself becoming drowsy; he had, after all, climbed up all those stairs by himself, so on the way back down, Francis had to give him a piggy back ride all the way to their dorm.

Once there, Francis had a tedious time finding his key and opening the door while trying his best not to drop his sleeping lover by accident.

Inside, he carefully lay Arthur down on their bed, tucking him in while he went to fetch himself a cup of coffee.

Moments later, Francis hissed at the pain that shot through his hand as freshly brewed coffee spilled off the side of his mug and onto his bare skin.

Setting his cup down on the kitchen table, he decided to let the liquid cool down before taking another sip.

Just then, the high pitched melody of France's national anthem rung from and flooded the room; Francis flipped open his phone and stared for a few seconds at the caller ID. Pressing the green "talk" button hesitantly, he calmly greeted the caller.

"_Bonjou_r. This is Francis."

"Hello dear, it is your mother. I am calling from your father's phone. Those detailed results you have been waiting for, _we may have them tomorrow._"

* * *

"_When he shall die,  
Take him and cut him out in little stars,  
And he will make the face of heaven so fine  
That all the world will be in love with night,  
And pay no worship to the garish sun."_


	23. Chapter 22

"…How is that even _possible?_ For the love of—she's less than two months along!" Francis was pretty sure that at three in the morning, even the dorm's security guards had given up on stopping the racket that Arthur was currently producing. He had decided to wake him from his sleep; better late than never, since this _little_ tidbit of information was going to make or break their entire future.

"I do not know myself." Francis answered honestly, "We will need to visit my mother. _Everyone_ will be there, as well as the outcome that we were waiting for."

Pushing himself up from the bed, Arthur casually walked to the kitchen area, and poured himself a cold cup of tea. Normally, he'd demand it properly done; boiled to a _crisp_ ninety nine degrees Celsius, two tea spoons of sugar, and one third a cup of milk. Such a beverage was considered the drink of _proper_ gentlemen.

Yet, he didn't bother with any of the "in-between" steps, simply pulling out a tea cup, and pouring out all that remained in the pot.

_Chamomile never did cure his stress._

Then, with half of the glass empty, he added more milk and walked back to Francis, pushing the cup of cold liquid into his slightly shaking hands.

Sitting back down on the bed, he crossed one leg over the other and pointed to the painted porcelain in Francis' hands.

"You're nervous. Drink it all up. It helps."

Lifting the cup up, he gulped down a good portion of the drink before sighing heavily, "…it is better that we get the answer now, rather than later on."

"I want the whole story. _Your_ side of the story." Arthur strictly demanded, "If I am to be present at the time of testing, I want to be there with some background knowledge."

Francis placed the cup slowly on the night table, and then turned around to pull Arthur into a hug, "…I will tell you what I know. It is the only truth I remember."

Nodding, Arthur pulled back and looked into Francis' eyes. This was it.

"…It was a long while ago, back in France. I had finished working a shift at one of my father's restaurants, when Gilbert and Antonio invited me for a drink…"

* * *

"_Hey! Take a break! I found this really awesome new bar down town. You _have_ to grab a pint with us."_

_Francis picked up a dish rag from the left counter and wiped up the marble top until it shone, "…I do not know…" he said uneasily, as much as he really did want to leave, "…I am supposed to be home soon, my father has arranged a meeting of some sort that I apparently _have_ to attend."_

_The red eyed man snorted, "Oh please. It's another meeting with that French chick again. You're going to turn her down anyways. Come on, live a little!"_

_Francis rolled his eyes, trying to ignore his friend's attempts to persuade him by running a flyer past his eyes, Gilbert held the advertisement between two fingers, smirking, "Antonio already reserved us VIP seats at the bar. Come on, Francis. I thought we were your best friends!"_

"_You _are_ my best friends. You two just don't know when to take things seriously."_

_Obviously ignoring Francis' previous statement, Gilbert began pushing him towards the door, "One drink. Alright? Then you can leave."_

_Honestly, Francis wasn't very fond of the invitation. Something about the night felt a bit…_odd_; as if something was urging him to refuse Gilbert and go home. He answered._

"…_Alright. Just _one_ drink."_

_The bar was, beyond all possible words; flashy. The front of the slim building was covered inch by inch in bright neon lights of every possible colour. At the bar's entrance stood a rather tall looking gentleman, dressed in black; a security guard of sorts._

_As Gilbert ushered Francis inside, he spotted Antonio waving at them from a table near the back. _

_Settling down in their seats, Francis noticed a new figure sitting beside Antonio that he had never seen before. _

"_Ahh, you have invited a guest? He does not seem like he is from Spain." Francis always found it amusing to poke playful fun at his friends' guests. _

"_No, he is my new roommate!" He replied cheerfully, patting said roommate a bit too closely, "This is Lovino. He hails from Italy."_

_Gilbert and Francis looked at each other, intrigued, "You two seem a little…too friendly, non?" _

_Both had assumed that the new guy was quiet, and anti-social, but upon hearing his, he chose to assert himself._

"…_You bastards. I'll warn you now. If you even try to go past that barrier of friendship with Antonio, nothing will stop me from kicking your sorry asses."_

_Both Francis and Gilbert were wide-eyed, "…well…he seems…pleasant…" was all that Francis could say._

"_Isn't he cute?" _

_When their drinks were put on their table, Gilbert and Francis downed their whole mugs, each letting out a refreshed, "Ahh"_

_Just as Francis finished, a shock of pain shot through his brain, causing his head to spin and his vision to become blurred and disjointed. _

"_Ugh… This alcohol… is very strong…" _

_Gilbert, already drunk, laughed loudly and punched Francis jokingly on the arm, "Yeah, well, If you want, you can leave."_

_That's exactly what he did._

_At least he wasn't stupid; Francis took a taxi home, his head still pained. Yes, he still loved and preferred wine much better. _

_He paid the driver, told him to keep the change. He was too drunk to care. He staggered towards the door, still finding it uneasy and difficult to walk. Once he reached the front step, he held a tight grip to the railing as he walked up. _

_Before he could reach for the knob or even find his key, the door swung open, and from Francis' eyes, a somewhat recognizable female figure stepped out, the woman spoke in a thick French accent, "Francis? You look terrible! Here, let me help you inside."_

_Something echoed in his mind, possibly the result of the liquor, but he went along with the strange voice anyways._

"_It is the way that he holds me, and it is the way he makes me fall in love with him…" _

_What? He had to stop watching those dramas on television…it was never a good sign when one begins hearing weird things. _

"…_My list…" The voice continued to echo, Francis clutched the top of his head hoping that the pressure would stop his head from throbbing. His surroundings began to become more and more blurry, and his entire environment began to spin. Looking up to the woman beyond the door, he groaned, "…you are just…not…the one…" and with his last drunken breath, collapsed to the floor._

_A drunken mind speaks a sober heart._

_

* * *

_

"I woke up the next morning with a powerful hang over. I was in my own bed, by myself. That is what I remember."

Francis looked down, depressed, as Arthur took his time absorbing the newly revealed information. Then, shyly, Arthur leaned in, hugging tightly to Francis' arm.

"…I believe you." He whispered softly, acceptance was always so hard for Arthur to do, "…we'll leave to see everyone for the test. What time is it now?"

Lifting his free arm to check his watch, he replied, "almost seven-thirty. If we leave now, we will be at mother's house just in time."

The couple said nothing more; they both got up as Francis pulled his set of car keys from out of his pocket. It didn't take them long to reach the lot, the doors were opened quickly, key turning the ignition, and before they knew it, they had already made it to the highway.

_Half way there._

_

* * *

_

Their arrival wasn't something grand, plain and simple to say the least. They parked inside the vicinity, got out of the car, walked up the steps and knocked confidently on the door.

That confidence was soon lost when a swish of light air created by the entrance pushed by them, and Jeanne was the one who opened the door to greet them.

"O-oh. H-hello." She must have been worried too. No one could blame her, or the child. This unborn life was in no way, shape or form involved in creating the anger and tension between the families.

Arthur is a strong believer in this. As a person, he valued his opinion very much concerning such a controversial matter, while respecting the opinions and ideas of the rest of the world. This child deserved a good place to grow up in, with both a mother and a father. He believed that it was essential for everyone.

_No matter what the outcome._

They were invited in, and lead to the living room, where both Francis' and Jeanne's parents were seated, along with a man in white; Arthur presumed he was the doctor.

There was silence for a few brief moments as Arthur and Francis took their seats; the air around them transformed into something so tense and inadequate that it became hard to breathe.

Francis' father began, "…I will get straight to the point of this meeting. If, by chance, the test reveals that my son is indeed the father to that child, he will assume the proper responsibility, correct?" he looked at Francis who nodded.

"Then, this is how it will work. A multi-million dollar program was designed a few years ago, and in its success, it was able to predict the exact parental figures of the unborn. This test has an absolute prediction rate of one hundred percent. A small blood sample will be taken from the assumed parent. From this, a qualified team of doctors will be able to match it up with the unborn baby's. The results will be available in less than an hour."

Now educated in the procedure and apparatus, Francis was quick to start the testing. A small sample was taken from his arm, in a syringe, the doctors already working on matching the blood.

The hour would be a long one.

* * *

Again, the room was still. Nothing but the sound of Arthur's nervously beating heart and slight coughs here and there protruded the delicate shell of "comfort" that surrounded them.

Mrs. Bonnefoy had left with her husband and Jeanne's parents to make some snacks in the kitchen, leaving Francis, Arthur and Jeanne alone in an awkward hush.

From the corner of his eye, Francis could see the doctors making work of the samples on a computer, along with some other chemicals and instruments. A timer was set on the table, reading about ten minutes before the results would be announced.

It was like something out of a reality show they had seen; with the audience shouting the host's name, and the troubled adults waiting "patiently" in their seats.

A soft "_ding_!" was heard, and the trio stared at the timer with frozen eyes. This was it, no turning back, just the cold, hard, honest, reality. No one was as petrified as Arthur. So when the doctors came in, asking to speak to Jeanne and Francis _only_, this just increased his fear.

Francis gently let go of Arthur's hand, kissed his cheek, and whispered an almost mandatory, "Please do not worry, _cher_." Although it was with good intentions, it did not help to steady Arthur's heart beat.

When he was sure that they were out of view, Arthur held himself tightly, hoping to cover up his shaking; when hot plates of mini quiches were pushed into his sight.

He smiled up at Mrs. Bonnefoy and popped the small appetizer into his mouth. He had to admit, it was delicious. Just like what Francis would make for him at home. It brought back happy feelings, reminiscent of _them_.

Francis and Jeanne walked back into the room, joining up with Arthur and Francis' mother.

"…S-so? What's the matter?" Arthur really didn't want to ask, but what choice did he have? It was do or die. Life or death.

Francis' eyes showed no emotion. No sadness, no anger, no happiness, no confusion.

Jeanne wasn't any different. She simply sat back down at her seat and said nothing.

"Arthur, I think that it is best if we speak about this at home."

"…W-well, o-okay. If that's what you want…"

The day went on.

Thank you's, good-byes, and finally, when they arrived back at the dorm, Arthur instantly drawled out, "…What was the result?"

Still emotionless, Francis gestured to the bed, "You may need to sit down for this."

Doing what he was told, Arthur obediently sat, and anxiously asked, "…will you _please_ tell me now?"

"…they called us to the back. They showed us graphs and pictures and the break up of my blood sample." Arthur gulped, "…the child is…female, healthy, a product of…human nature."

Arthur was speechless, still, his heart was rapidly bursting out of his chest, "…Arthur…I am so sorry…"

He swore his heart stopped; cold, dead. The answer right here in front of him, it was scarier than jumping off of a bridge, or being at the tip of a gun at point blank range; worst than Russian roulette, or throwing himself from the roof.

"…There is bad news…"

Each word was slowly put forth, dragged out of a wound he knew would never heal.

"..._Cher…_" Francis' voice was gentle, preparing him for the worst. Arthur wished in his mind that the world would stop—be suspended in completely stationary animation.

"…I will have to be…" He started, "stuck with your _awful_ cooking, _'till death do us part' _"

"…I knew it! My life is an endless spiral of depre-" Quite rapidly, his heart began to race again, "-Wait. WHAT?"

Laughing, he tackled Arthur on the bed, so that he was on top, "…Exactly as I said. You may shower me with your undying love."

"Y-you! YOU!" Arthur cried, tears pouring heavily as he let it all out, "Don't you _fucking_ scare me like that!"

"But you _love_ me, _Cher_." He kissed Arthur's tear-stained cheek, a slightly salty taste applied onto his tongue.

"…y-you.._hic…_fucking…jerk face." He wiped his cheek with his sleeve, trying his best to put himself back in order.

"Being childish now, are we?" He lowered his head down to capture Arthur's lips in heated kiss, their mouths parting slightly to deepen their act; a battle of dominance, one of which Arthur was losing.

They parted for air, panting heavily; Arthur more than already red in the face, Francis flipped them over, making sure that Arthur was held as securely as he could, their troubles already fading away to thin air.

"You know…we still have not chosen a date for the wedding, Arthur."

Looking upwards so that their eyes would meet, Arthur sighed, and cuddled closer to Francis, "…I want it…as soon as possible."

A comfortable quietness filled the room, and before they simultaneously drifted off for an afternoon nap, Francis had but only one thought on his mind.

"_How long do you think I had to suffer, before I could have you in my arms once again?"_

_

* * *

_"_Beauty's ensign yet  
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,  
And death's pale flag is not advanced there."_

_

* * *

_

Thanks for reading up to this point! The next chapter will be out as soon as you know it!

**CONTEST:**

I've decided to put in a contest for "One Half Romeo" before the story ends in a few chapters.

Here's how it'll go. There are three questions, each related to this story. You may choose one or more, and answer them correctly.

**RULES: **

You may look through the fic for the answers.

The answers are based on _creativity_ and correctness, _not_ on whether or not you answer first.

There is no limit to the amount of questions you may answer.

Please post your answer as a review on this chapter.

Each question is rated from hard, to medium, to easy. The prizes for each one will be given accordingly.

The contest will end at the epilogue.

**QUESTIONS:**

_Hard: _Which character(s) do/does Matthew and Alfred represent in the original "Romeo and Juliet"? and why?

_Medium: _What kind of tea does Arthur offer Francis first?

_Easy:_ What is the name of Arthur's plush? Why do you think he named it so?

_**Please remember, answers will be rated on creativity**_

**PRIZES: **

_Hard: _One shot with pairing of the reader's choice (based on the pairings list on my user profile; there are some exceptions [e.g. No crack pairings]), and an illustrated drawing of any scene in the fic _under_ the "T" rating.

_Medium: _Illustration of any scene rated "T" and under.

_Easy: _Suggestion of a scene that I will write in the "One Half Romeo" sequel.

Good luck, and have fun!


	24. Chapter 23

Pulling out a fresh, clean page of cardstock, Arthur gracefully stroked each letter of ink with care:

"_You are cordially invited: This upcoming April seventeenth"_

"It looks like the invitations are turning out well." Francis chimed, gliding through the room and wrapping his arms around Arthur from behind, "…the date is only a few weeks away! Do you think we have the time to prepare?"

Blushing, Arthur leaned into the hug and sighed, "…We will. I'm sure of it."

Hard headed, stubborn, totally irrational…these were things Alfred and Matthew teasingly called Arthur. He, however, preferred the word "perseverance". When he wanted something done, it was done according to what he wanted, no matter what. This was no different than the current situation, and this wedding was way past something to simply "get done".

Ruffling Arthur's hair playfully, Francis stepped back and into their kitchen area, "_Oui, Cher, _as you wish." Then, opening the top cupboard above the stove, Francis took out a large cooking pan, set the temperature dial to seven, and poured some oil in, "What would you like for brunch? You have been up all morning with the invitations and centre pieces! You have not eaten a thing!"

Arthur contemplated, and pursed his lips in thought, he felt like eating something…sweet?

A hearty laugh invaded Arthur's thoughts, "You are thinking out loud again, _Cher_!"

"J-just cook something...please." He had got to stop doing that; even though bad habits always die hard; although, if it was in front of Francis, he really didn't mind at all.

A clatter of kitchen utensils and a mix of ingredients later, Francis began preparations for Arthur's meal.

_Half a cup of milk_

_Half a cup of egg whites_

_Half a cup of sugar_

The batter was made thickly, and instantly poured into the waiting pan to cook. A soft sizzling from the oil and batter could be heard throughout the room, tempting Arthur to stop what he was doing completely and stare as Francis finished his food (hell, he didn't even care what it _was_!) As long as Francis made it, he knew without a doubt that it would taste great.

Now, where was he? Oh, right, invitations.

There weren't many people Arthur _particularly _needed to invite, aside from Matthew and Alfred, obviously; But that was a given! He needed the "maid of honour" and "best man" to be there! It was a necessity.

"Alright. And…done!" Arthur lifted the card eye level, and smiled proudly. He had finished a few dozen invitations all by hand, by himself. Yes, he _did_ feel accomplished. What was left now? Attire, of course, flowers, and cake. It'd be a miracle if Francis could find and book that venue they've been searching for. Then, they'd be all set.

Arthur stood up from his seat, put the invitations away, and stretched his back. Francis came with a plate, setting it in front of Arthur. Curiously, he prodded at the foreign meal with his fork, taking in the picture to memory. "…What…is it?" Some sort of strange French pizza-like creation? No, this had strawberries, whipped cream, and…chocolate? Well, he did request for something_ sweet_.

"In Paris, it is called a crêpe. Usually, something sweet is put inside, but various other things like seafood and cheese can be put in as well."

"Oh." Arthur replied subtly, he cut off a small piece of the crêpe, and put it into his mouth, chewing slowly, savouring the flavour.

As quickly as the food had been placed on the table, Arthur's face was covered in the remaining strawberry juice and chocolate. Francis laughed as he watched Arthur try to lap up the excess with his tongue. "…So, did you enjoy it?" He picked up a napkin from the holder on the side, and proceeded to wipe Arthur's mouth.

"…Y-yeah…it's always good…"came the muffled reply from beneath the cotton.

Francis then removed the plate and cutlery from the table and put them into the sink to wash, "Do not forget, Arthur, we must leave soon for suit fittings."

"Oh, right. I'll get Matthew to meet us there."

* * *

"…I absolutely _refuse _to see you in a powdered blue suit." Arthur stressed out, arms crossed, cheeks huffed, and a study stomp on the ground for effect. Of course, he loved the man, but really; his fashion sense irked him at certain times.

"_Oui, oui, Cher, _classic black it will be!" Francis chimed in singsong, and went off to retrieve matching black suits in their sizes. He stopped suddenly when he heard a small ruckus of moving clothing and muffled noises from the changing room beside the suit rack.

"…Matt…you should wear _this_." Alfred smirked, waving a bright highlighter pink tie in front of Matthew's face, as he clumsily tried to tie it around his boyfriend's neck, "…_just the tie."_

Matthew rolled his eyes, fully expecting this from _Alfred_ of all people, "_You…_" he pulled Alfred closer, "are a wild, unstable beacon of pent up sexual aggression."

Alfred leaned in close, and growled softly against Matthew's lips, "But you wouldn't have me any other way."

"YOU TWO. STOP. NOW." Arthur barked loudly, both irritated and embarrassed at the scene produced from his _highly_ sexually active friends.

"I'm so sorry!" wailed Matthew, pushing Alfred gently away from him and walking out of the change room, "we already have our suits, d-do you have yours?"

Arthur chose to ignore their little _scene_ for a moment, after all, it'd be best to get everything on their list done sooner better than later, "Yes, now all we have to do is select flowers, the cake, venue, and written necessities."

After paying at the counter, Francis approached them with two suit bags in both hands, "You mean to say the wedding papers and vows, _oui?" _He inwardly chuckled to himself; Arthur would always twist the words into something "less embarrassing" for him to say, "…L-let's just put the suits in the car and find some flowers."

* * *

Irises, daisies, lilies…none of these quite fit in with the "spring" image he wanted to create at their wedding. Arthur slowly browsed through the many assortments of floral bouquets and arrangements until he finally found a cluster of red roses tied together with some sparkly white lace.

"_These look great…"_ Arthur thought; he had never seen such vibrant flowers of this variety since he was still a small child, still living in England.

"I want those." He tugged at Francis' sleeve childishly, whilst pointing at the batch in front of them, "Please? _Please?_ Please, please, please?"

How could he refuse? They were _roses_ of all things! He always left one for Arthur every morning before he left for classes. Though, he had his vision cast upon a lily on the other side of the room.

This didn't go unnoticed by Arthur, and, not wanting to start an argument over _flowers_ with Francis, he quickly picked up a group of his roses, and trot to the other side of the store to mix in some of the lilies.

"There." He blushed, and gently shoved the new gathering of flowers at Francis, "Now it has both of ours."

No reply was needed. He held the flowers in one arm and linked his free one with Arthur's, "It is a mix of us."

As Francis and Arthur went off to order a set of their newly combined roses and lilies, Matthew and Alfred waited _sort of_ patiently in the car.

"_Vroom….vrrrrooom….honk! screeeech! _I'm a race car driver! Awe yeah! Oh no! Mattie! We're falling behind! Pull on the 'super fast extreme hero' lever!" Alfred pretended to drive, no keys in the ignition (Francis was terrified of Alfred accidently on purpose turning it on and running some innocent defenceless people over) and loudly muttered car noises as Matthew unwillingly played along.

"…Al, there is _no_ 'super fast extreme hero' lever." Matthew sighed, refusing to encourage Alfred's fantasy.

Alfred on the other hand, pouted and replied with a strict, "Of course we have a lever! It's right in front of you! Just pull it!"

"I don't see anything!" Matthew _almost_ laughed, playing on the passenger's role a bit longer, "If you want to win the race so bad, pull the lever yourself."

"Fine! I will!" Alfred continued on with pretend race car noises, then suddenly shouted out, "Okay! Go! 'super fast extreme hero' lever!" and letting one hand off the steering wheel, he shoved it down the front of Matthew's jeans, giving the 'lever' a firm stroke.

"AHHHN! Al!" Matthew cried out, whimpering slightly as Alfred kept the pace.

"GET THE _FUCK _OUT OF MY SEAT." Arthur came in, red in the face, angrily opening the doors and tossing Alfred and Matthew to the back, then awkwardly sat in the passenger seat.

Francis must've found the scene hilarious, as he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, "What is next on t-the list?" he tried to hold his laughter in as best as he could, but failed when Arthur shot a glare his way, and mumbled, "…cake."

* * *

"Alright, so we're all in agreement that it'll be a three tiered cake?" Arthur wanted to make sure they had this down correctly. He even brought a notepad just in case.

"Yes, Arthur." Alfred enunciated his full name sarcastically, Matthew had to promise him free cake samples just to get him out of the car "can we eat now?"

Arthur ignored Alfred and continued on his quest for the perfect cake, "…It's only friends and family anyways, so…this!" he gestured to a white tired cake, "looks good to me, what do you think?"

"Dude, you should get this awesome hamburger cake!" Alfred stared hungrily at the strangely shaped cake, like a mouse and a trap.

"…Screw you. We are _not _having a freaking hamburger for the wedding!"

Alfred huffed in defeat, "…you British people and your cake."

The four of them took their seats in the waiting area as the local chef brought out flavour samples for them to try.

"Oh man, dude, this is freaking _orgasmic._" Alfred chomped on the cake and downed it with some soda he bought at the machine. He stopped eating for a moment and looked at Matthew innocently, "…you know what this cake needs?"

"What?"

Alfred smirked, which alerted Matthew a bit, "A heavy shot of your cu-"

"WILL YOU FUCKING SHUT UP?" Arthur smashed his portion of cake at Alfred's face, which helped quite a lot, seeing as Alfred had to distractingly clean up with some napkins.

Francis looked at Arthur.

Arthur looked at Francis.

"…Vanilla?"

"…Vanilla."

* * *

"_Eyes, look your last!  
Arms, take your last embrace!"_

_

* * *

_**CO****NTEST DETAILS: **This is just to let you guys know, the contest is still going on, and I am very surprised that one person actually got the hard question right! But this doesn't mean the rest of you are counted out! You may still answer any of the three questions from the previous chapter.

And, just to show my appreciation for all you readers, I'll put a bonus question up. It's totally based on opinion and creativity so there is no "correct" answer. Leave your answer as a reply to this chapter:

_Who is your favourite character in "One Half Romeo", why, and what scene would you like to see happen?_

The best answer's scene will be put somewhere in the next chapter. Have fun!_  
_


	25. Chapter 24

Arthur and Francis spent nearly ten hours of their night on the web, in search of an appropriate (but price friendly) venue. Firstly, they needed to find a place to hold the reception. Somewhere that wasn't monstrously grand, but big enough to fit the fifty family members and friends that were attending. Next, they needed a place to actually _hold_ the wedding. Many of the receptionists at certain chapels that they were considering turned down their requests just for the fact that "it's too last minute".

"…Oh, _fuck_ it." Arthur pouted, slamming his head on his keyboard, "…we'll never find one in time."

In the background, he could hear Francis laughing to himself, Arthur growing more and more irritated with each passing second.

"I am cooking something different for us tonight!" He exclaimed proudly, adding oil, spices, and other ingredients into the pot. Something was strange about the aroma though, Arthur thought.

He stood up, and began pacing vigorously back and forth. Upon his fifth or sixth lap, he curiously spotted something sticking out from the _usually _empty lunch pocket of Francis' bag. Glancing towards the kitchen, he made sure that Francis was completely distracted, immersed in his work, then, squatting down to slowly slip the sheet out, Arthur made sure that the crinkle of the paper would be reduced as much as he could.

Success! The sheet was folded into few sections, which, worked on Arthur's behalf to remain quiet. He then slowly opened the flaps, revealed to him, what appeared to be…

"…_a grocery list?"_ Arthur blinked, and then took a closer look at the numbered items that it held.

Skimming through it rather quickly, his eyes took an immediate glance at something near the end of the page.

_10. Must be A-_

"WHAT THE SHIT?" Arthur yelled, blowing his "spy" cover while shoving the sheet back into the pocket. Francis craned his neck from the kitchen area with wide eyes, "…Oh."

"IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY? 'Oh.'?" Arthur stomped into the kitchen and practically glomped Francis, being mindful of the boiling water on the stove, he mumbled, "…you never told me about that."

"You never asked, _Cher_." He winked, turning back to the pot, stirring the contents inside clockwise so that the dish would fully cook, "Take a break for now. Tomorrow we will find locations. Calm down."

"…Fine." Arthur then looked around the room. Without anything else to do, he automatically became bored, "I'll check our attire again." He sighed, dragging himself to their walk-in closet and pulling out the two bags.

Checking the names on each, he found his bag and lifted it on to the bed. "_It's a bit…heavier than last time…"_ He thought, but decided to shake it off as he quickly unzipped the bag.

Jet black, clean and crisp, his suit was _perfect_.

Perfect white shirt,

Perfect black top,

Perfect black bottom,

Perfect white ribbons with glitter.

"…_Wait, WHAT?"_

Carefully taking his suit out, and laying it on the bed, he felt his eye twitch as the contents of what was underneath.

"Francis?" He called out, in a forcefully sweet tone, "could you come here a minute?"

"_Oui!_" Francis called back, happily joining Arthur by the bed.

"…What the fuck is this?" Arthur held down his voice, although anger was quite legible.

"That!" Francis started, pulling the new outfit out of the bag, "Is a one in a kind, Paris made wedding dress."

"…"

"…"

Indeed it was, typically, long and flowing, pure white; it produced such an air of innocence when the light fabric moved through the air in the room, and shined like gems when it hit the light just right.

It took some time for Arthur to calculate the new information, trying to take deep breaths in order to reduce his confusion-tinted anger.

"…Am I to assume that I will be wearing _this_ at our wedding?" Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, clenched fists at his sides.

"_Non, _This is not for the wedding!" Francis said in all seriousness, placing both the dress and the suit back into the bag, and zipping it closed.

Arthur felt relieved, "…Oh, so what _is _it for, the-"

"The honeymoon of course!" Francis jokingly stuck his tongue out, but Arthur wasn't amused.

"…you've been hanging out with Alfred _way _too much."

A moment of silence sat between them, until a crash was heard coming from their bathroom.

Arthur let his eye twitch, one more time, "…Speaking of _Alfred…_"

Gesturing towards a chair, he advised Francis to take a seat while he went to investigate the strange thumping noises.

He really wasn't expecting much, actually, he was hoping that his toilet was out of order again, making those annoying sounds.

Hand on the door knob, and a swift pull of the door revealed…

"…_Oh, shit."_

Normally, catching his two best friends being intimate together was enough to send him over the edge.

But, there they were, butt naked, in his shower, _copulating. _

Oh, but it didn't end there! Arthur shook in fury as Matthew looked away in embarrassment, Alfred _still going at it._

"…YOU DRAGGED MY HOMEROOM DESK INTO MY SHOWER?"

* * *

_Seven years ago were relatively "short" according to Arthur. He had no one else to hang around with, that is, except for his family friend, Matthew._

"_...What is this?" Arthur bitterly spat out the golden yellow "tea", "…this is improper!" he shoved the mug in Matthew's direction._

_Matthew however, thought otherwise, and downed the entire mug in a single gulp, "It's called maple tea. It reminds me of home."_

_Guilty. If there was one word Arthur felt right now, that was it. He knew how much Matthew missed his home country, and moving down to America with a scholarship was a miracle for his poor family._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something move. So when he stopped, Matthew stopped as well._

"…_Arthur? Are you alright?" Matthew was concerned, and took some steps back to make sure his friend was okay._

"_Yes, sorry. I just thought I saw something move." He shook his head, and continued walking along with Matthew._

_The feeling of something watching them sent a cold gust of wind their way; Arthur beginning to feel insecure as he quickly looked back, this time, noticing something hide behind a telephone booth. He held Matthew back, fear just filtering through his system, "…There's someone following us. Behind that booth."_

_Matthew didn't look the least bit phased, and from what Arthur concluded, he wore a bored expression as he strut casually towards the booth, Arthur following behind him. Kicking the front part of the door, Matthew glared down at a small section of brown fabric on the opposite side of the booth, "…if you don't get your ass out from behind there, I swear I will push this thing over you."_

_A boy of about Matthew's age and height emerged from the side of the booth, nervously laughing to himself, "…H-hey guys!" _

"_How dare he." Arthur began, "…you don't even know us!" Matthew nodded in agreement, "…What the hell do you want?"_

_The boy smirked, and coyly replied at Matthew, "My name is Alfred, and I want you to go out with me."_

_

* * *

_

"…I-I'm s-so-_oh god, Al... _S-s-orry!" Matthew cried out in a failed attempt, Arthur smacking his head with his hand, he shut the door abruptly and shouted, "CLEAN THE FUCK UP WHEN YOU'RE DONE."

Francis stared at Arthur, raising his eyebrow up in suspicion, "…_C-cher…_what was that?" He was more than afraid to ask, "Oh! and by the way, I found some venues we can look at next week."

Partly relieved, Arthur answered his first question,"...Just don't use the shower until we get it disinfected next week."

* * *

"_Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy."_

**UPDATE: **I think I added all scenes you all gave to me (Because they were ALL so good, I just had to put ALL of them in!)


	26. Chapter 25

The time for choosing a venue to host and have the wedding was becoming more and more tedious as the day drew near to its end. Francis had brought Arthur to almost all the locations on his list, none of which, Arthur approved of.

Currently, Arthur and Francis walked through the next place on the list; a banquet hall that seemed almost too _expensive _for Arthur's taste.

It was a huge hall, able to fit at least five hundred guests, including themselves. It was nice, carpeted flooring, bright lighting, pre-set tables, but it didn't really fit Arthur's description of a venue.

"…I don't know about this…" He made a face, a twist between confused and disgusted,"…aren't there any other places we could check out?"

Francis yawned, and taking a hold of Arthur's hand he pulled him towards the exit, "There is _one _other place."

* * *

Driving around for hours was exhausting as well. If he knew that he was going to be dragged around for this long, he would have just booked the wrecked up banquet hall.

Finally pulling over, Francis parked into the space, turned off the car, unbuckled his seat belt and sighed, "…well?"

"…You've got to be _fucking _kidding me." Arthur huffed in disbelief, a twinge of anger in his voice, "…He lied to you, verbally abused you for your entire life, and you want to have our wedding and the reception _here?"_

Francis turned to look at Arthur with soft eyes, "He is still my father. I know we have never had the 'ideal' relationship of a father and son, but what would you rather have? A father who was never there, or a father who has isolates himself from the world?" He twisted the engagement ring on his finger nervously, "…He has never been there for me, has never told me that he loved me, or spent any time with me, other than when I needed to be at management lessons." He pulled Arthur close, being mindful of the cup holders and other objects that separated their seats, "…When I met you, and we talked for a while, you acted in such a _brash_ manner." He laughed almost bitterly, "I am so envious. You receive many phone calls over the weekends, from your siblings. You are always yelling at them, and laughing with them. I never had that experience; I never had anyone but myself."

"So…" Francis lifted himself up a bit from his seat, "…When he told me for the very first time in twenty years that he was _proud _of me; I cried. I cried because I know that everyone in this world has problems bottled up, but I was so selfish and immature. I suffered alone, and because of that, I wanted to just end it all."

Francis kept his eyes down, while Arthur kept his mouth shut from saying anything that would make the situation any more painful for Francis.

The silence was deafening.

Gathering all the strength he could stir up from all the awkwardness, he hugged Francis; brought his head down so that he could use his shoulder, "…Sometimes…it's alright to cry…" He combed his fingers through his lover's hair, "…You'll feel better afterwards." Blushing, he lifted Francis' head, so that they were now looking directly in each other's eyes, "I do love you, don't you ever forget that, alright?"

He wiped away his tears with some tissue from the box near him, took a deep breath, and genuinely smiled, "…You are the only thing in my life that keeps me grounded; anchored down." Arthur hugged him tightly, once more and concluded.

"We'll have the reception and ceremony here then, if it really is important to you." Arthur opened their doors with the switch as they both stepped out, "I just want you to feel comfortable being married in a place that makes you feel secure."

All signs of possible sorrow were washed away completely by Arthur's words. The two stepped into the building, hand in hand, and, taking some papers from the front desk, booked the restaurant and the its hall; signed in black ink, on the dotted line.

* * *

Although Arthur was relieved, a huge wave of guilt couldn't help but wash ashore in his heart; Francis had been through so much more than he had, so why was he feeling so…comforted?

Such an emotion was so foreign to him; this "guilt", as one would call it. What made it worse was not that he almost felt reassured with his downfallen life, but that now, they could just be themselves; suffer together.

Back in the car, Francis started it up, and drove around for another few hours; most likely a way to calm down his inner self. He drove past familiar buildings, shops, grocery stores, and when Arthur noticed that Francis had driven past their dorm, he became questionable.

"…Where are we going?" This was new. Francis had never taken Arthur anywhere without of course, giving him all the information he needed.

Francis said nothing, but looked to Arthur for a second before smiling, and turning his view back to the road.

After a few more moments of quiet scenery, and idle chit-chat, Arthur saw his vision go black, a fabric blindfold wrapped comfortably over his eyes, disabling his vision.

He flinched in a panic, about ready to punch someone out, when he felt Francis link their arms together and in a soft voice whispered, "Do not worry _cher."_

The hand pulled away for a brief moment, Arthur felt the cold air rush in as the passenger door was opened. He felt the hand reach for his to help him up, followed by the sound of the car door shutting behind him.

"…W-where are we?" He stuttered, obviously confused and afraid, "…I swear if this is a set up for something that's going to hurt, I will…" Well, there wasn't really anything _negative _he could say; this was his fiancé, after all, "…never mind." He huffed through his temporary blindness.

They walked, slowly though, through a narrow path-like hall that Arthur concluded was also quite "scary". He knew he had to trust Francis with leading him down the path, but his feet wouldn't listen to him. He took wary steps, small and shaky, but eventually he had made it to the end. His blindfold was removed.

What awaited him wasn't anything less than glamorous. An almost electric coloured line of sports vehicles was wide spread in a (what appeared to be) concrete warehouse.

"…What the…?" Arthur was dumbfounded; in such a shock that he himself couldn't even find the words to express it.

"The transportation…" Francis started, "for the wedding. You may choose one here."

Arthur walked along the only lane visible to access the vehicles. The lot was mostly expensive cars, limousines, Lamborghinis, convertibles, sport cars. How was supposed to pick _one _from the best of the best?

He continued walking until his eyes caught a glimpse of a bright red sports car at the very end of the "garage", "...hmm…"

Opening the car door, he slid himself into the driver's seat, closing the door to his left.

"…You know…" Arthur laughed to himself, "…where I lived before, we drove on the opposite side of the road."

Francis leant on the side of the car, "That must have been troublesome."

"I always thought it was normal, as a child." It was obvious that Arthur was stalling for something, Francis thought, but couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.

He might as well start with something easy; something to break the thin ice he was already treading on.

"…Will we be using this car as our transportation to the ceremony?" Francis talked as he walked, clicking open the passenger's car door and sitting in the seat.

Arthur replied quickly, "Sure, I don't mind." keeping his head low as always, insecure about _something_.

Francis wasn't fooled, "Then we will use it."

_More silence._

"…We are leaving."

"What?" Arthur all but leapt up from his seat, as Francis turned on the ignition.

"W-where are we going?" Arthur shouted, the car already put into reverse; garage door rising up behind them; sunlight almost gone.

Francis didn't even know himself. Where would they go? Why would they be there?

_Would it even matter?_

"No…" Francis thought to himself, _it wouldn't matter; _As long as Arthur was still by his side. As long as all they had were each other; As long as they were _together_.

When Arthur had finally calmed down, the car was put on neutral as they stopped on the road.

Arthur sighed, giving up all hope of returning to the safe sanctuary of the garage. Being blindfolded from the start, the area was completely foreign to him; "…No where to go but forward."

Changing the gear to _drive, _he stepped on the gas and just drove.

The only things that coursed through his mind were simple.

_Let go._

_Let time._

_Just be._

The trip continued on for a good couple of miles, at which time Francis turned to Arthur and boldly asked, "…So, what made you so worried earlier?"

Arthur choked on his own words. Unable to speak, he simply turned his gaze further away; _he couldn't possible deal with this right now. _He felt awful.

It didn't matter though; the guilt was already eating him from the inside out, gnawing at his soul irritably well; and, for that matter, was not helping him at his current goal.

He forfeited. A sense of sentiment; tender heartedness, it was all too much for him to take. He gave in once more.

"…You deserve better."

"Pardon?"

"…better." Arthur repeated again, "_better _than me."

Clearing his throat, he tried to conceal and traces of sadness in his voice before continuing, "I don't even know how you can stand to put up with me; I know I'm stubborn, I'm up tight, I get mad at people who are remotely _kind _to _me_."

Francis was about to cut in, but was suddenly interrupted by Arthur's minimalistic sobs, "…y-you. Y-you're telling me these things; how you want siblings, a stable family…something _solid_. I have all of those things; yet, I still feel the need to criticise myself; to belittle those around me in order to make myself feel higher."

It was like _Déjà vu_; he didn't want to have to deal with this _again._ "…We have already had this talk." Francis had to keep his voice down, although a bit strained and irritated at the fact that he had to re-live this conversation again. He wandered off this train of thought; Arthur had said something like this once, right? "_The key to the future may lie in the past."_ Oh yes, that's right, he was spouting his literature rant at him that time. What that quote had meant, he had no clue; but it made a bit of sense to him.

Arthur on the other end of the situation was already trying to diminish his insecurity; with all that had already happened; _that girl's _pregnancy, the results, the undying fatigue and anguish; he had realized not too long from his mini-outburst that he was emotionally…distraught?

He was opening up.

Oh, great. It was like they were _already married._

Unconsciously, he laughed to himself out loud; at which point Francis was returned back to reality and he and Arthur were staring at each other amusingly.

Everyday was a battlefield; they had no control over that. What they did have control over was their actions; the only tools and ammunition that life supplied them. Make and break; past and present; this would shape their future.

After all, the marriage was only a few weeks away.

* * *

"_The weakest goes to the wall."_


	27. Chapter 26 and Epilogue

Morning weddings were _supposed _to be calm; they were _supposed _to be quickly prepared; they were _supposed _to be _on time._

At least, that's what Arthur had thought originally.

Instead, what he got was a very hectic morning, which was now _chaotic, _and _loud_. The aggravated screams of terror as red wine was pushed and spilled _"accidently"_ on the floor; creating a sticky, strong scented puddle of what would now be called a stain.

Last night's "bridal shower" hadn't gone as planned either. Alfred being the self-proclaimed "'best' best friend ever" hired a group of about twelve – he was "informed" – legitimate _strippers _to the party. Arthur and Matthew were _not _pleased.

Back to the current situation at hand, Arthur was now running up and down the stairs – and although the aerobic workout for the day was nice – in search of the tie to his tuxedo.

"DAMN IT." He yelled, punching the wall beside him, which he yelped out _again _at the throbbing pain in his wrist due to the impact. When he did find it, however, the poor boy was too flustered by everything that he forgot how to tie it up.

"A-Arthur!" Matthew panicked, going up to him, "Calm down! Just breathe! Breathe!"

Matthew took the both ends of the tie; crossing the wide end under the narrow one, and over and under once more. Pulling the loop down, he tightened the knot and fixed it proportionately, patting himself on the back; a job well done.

Rushing to the mirror, Arthur carefully examined himself in the mirror, he straightened his back, "Everything has to be perfect."

"Now then…" Matthew walked over to the door, a few bags in hand, "We have to leave _now. _We're already fifteen minutes late!"

* * *

The day's plan was simple; get into the car, drive to the chapel, meet everyone there, and finish up with the ceremony and reception.

Francis had arrived at the chapel a good hour before everything was set up; and now that the ceremony was at the peak of beginning, and neither Matthew or Arthur anywhere in sight, he was starting to get a little worried.

To his left, he noticed Alfred conversing with some men near the hallway leading to the reception area. Hopefully he had some information about the tardiness of his fiancé.

As Francis approached them, the conversation grew louder.

"Dude! Make sure the music's LOUD when they enter the dance floor!"

"Sir, that isn't in ou-"

"JUST DO IT!" Alfred slapped the poor guy on the back, laughing as Francis finally reached him, "Hey! Where is everyone?"

"I was just about to ask you that!" Francis replied worriedly, "…D-do you think-"

"Don't worry about it!" Rolling his eyes Alfred snatched a mini sandwich from a waiter's tray as he passed by, "They'll be here soon!"

* * *

"FUCK. FUCK _FUCK._" Arthur yelled, fidgeting inside the limo, "WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE."

Oh, how he wished that the vehicle would move faster; or that he could some how teleport _magically _to the altar.

"We will be there on time, just calm down!" Matthew then unzipped a bag he brought earlier from Arthur's dorm. Quickly, he pulled something out and tossed it in Arthur's direction.

"You didn't." Arthur stared at the object on his lap in disbelief.

Matthew laughed, "I thought you were going to be nervous. So I brought you some extra support."

Lifting the item up so that it was at eye level, he smiled, "I missed you, Fluffy!"He held the unicorn close to his chest, memories of his and Francis' trip to the light show suddenly filling his mind. At least now he wasn't panicking! Pausing his cuddle session to look sternly at Matthew, Arthur narrowed his eyes, "You better not tell _anyone _about this."

"Yes, yes, yes." Matthew rolled the window down to let in some air, "whatever makes you happy."

* * *

"They are fifteen minutes late!"Francis yelled, grabbing Alfred with both arms and shaking him violently, "What if they had a car accident? What if it broke down? Alfred! Do something!"

"Dude! Chill!" Alfred pushed the frantic man away, to pull out his cell phone and start hitting buttons. Luckily, he had Arthur on speed dial; number three, "I'm calling right now. So just sit down, relax, and everything will be fine."

* * *

Back in the limousine, Arthur jumped up, the loud beeping of his ring tone sounding throughout the car.

"H-hello?"

"Arthur! Where are you? The ceremony's about to start!"

"We're pulling up right now. Just wait a few minutes."

* * *

"Hurry up!"

"I'm trying! They build too many fuckings_tairs!"_

As they _finally_ reached the chapel, the ceremony was already starting – they could tell – by the obvious wedding march being played loudly on the church's organ.

Out of breath from all the exercise, Arthur stood beneath the entrance of the chapel. He began to walk – by himself – which many people would find completely pitiful and hopeless.

Not to Arthur.

His parent's had passed all too soon for them to give him most of their love; he thought it best to walk _himself _down the aisle.

Besides, it gave him a chance to assert his…

This thought was cut off when he noticed that at the end of the aisle was his _soon-to-be husband, _giving him that recognizable smile that he – although he would usually deny it –_ loved._

Before Arthur knew it, he was face to face with him; standing at the foot of the altar.

"A-ah..b-blah..e-ergh…h-hey!" Arthur managed to babble up, now already caught up in the moment and furthermore, embarrassed at his loss of words; he was a literature student! What was this?

It was then that Arthur decided that perhaps speaking only when asked to speak would help in favour of lessening his embarrassment.

The priest cleared his throat, "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the presence of these witnesses – and in the face of this company – to join together this couple in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honourable among all; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. If anything, he would've thought any one of his siblings would object; his fiancé was of _French _origin after all. He looked back, all of them smiling at him his eldest brother nodding quietly in approval.

Turning back the priest continued, "Marriage is the union of both parties in heart, body and mind. It is intended for their mutual joy – and for the help and comfort given on another in prosperity and adversity. But more importantly – it is a means through which a stable and loving environment may be attained."

Arthur smirked inwardly to himself; the moment they had met was the beginning of something strange, something he would've never experience, had he ended his life earlier.

"Through marriage…" The priest squint his eyes, adjusting his glasses to read out the text, "Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland make a commitment together to face their disappointments – embrace their dreams – realize their hopes – and accept each other's failures. Francis and Arthur will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together – through mutual understanding – openness – and sensitivity to each other. We are here today because marriage is one of His most sacred wishes – to witness the joining in marriage of Francis and Arthur. This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with which these two persons begin their life together. And now – through me – you are joined together in one of these sacred bonds."

He took a moment to breathe, "This is a beginning and a continuation of their growth as individuals. With mutual care, respect, responsibility and knowledge comes the affirmation of each one's own life happiness, growth and freedom. With respect for individual boundaries comes the freedom to love unconditionally. Within the emotional safety of a loving relationship – the knowledge self-offered one another becomes the fertile soil for continued growth. With care and responsibility towards self and one another comes the potential for full and happy lives."

Arthur _swore _he heard Alfred immaturely laugh at "fertile" – he mentally face palmed.

"By gathering together all the wishes of happiness and our fondest hopes for this couple from all present here, we assure them that our hearts are in tune with theirs. These moments are so meaningful to all of us, for "what greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined together – to strengthen each other in all labour – to minister to each other in all sorrow – to share with each other in all gladness."

Arthur _knew _nothing could be better.

"This relationship stands for love, loyalty, honesty and trust, but most of all _for friendship_. Before they knew love, they were friends, and it was from this seed of friendship that is their destiny. Do not think that you can direct the course of love – for love, if it finds you worthy, shall direct you."

_Friends. _He remembered how he scoffed at the idea of even sharing his dorm with Francis; and now, he didn't even know where to start.

"Marriage is an act of faith and a personal commitment as well as a moral and physical union between two people. Marriage has been described as the best and most important relationship that can exist between them. It is the construction of their love and trust into a single growing energy of spiritual life. It is amoral commitment that requires and deserves daily attention. Marriage should be a life long consecration of the ideal of loving kindness – backed with the will to make it last. You may now exchange wedding vows."

Arthur froze. He had forgotten about that _small _bit of the ceremony. He had absolutely no clue on what to say. Arthur remembered spending all his time working and planning on the actual _wedding _that he had no time to sit down and write down his wedding vow!

Francis sensed this, and, taking Arthur's hands in his own, he laughed softly, "do not worry; I will speak for the both of us."

Clearing his throat, Francis took a few seconds to mentally prepare himself before he spoke.

"Many people spend their lives searching for their soul mate; their one true love. Some people are lucky to find the person that they can truly call the better _half_ of themselves, while other people spend the rest of their lives searching and never finding. I am very happy to count myself among the lucky ones, because I certainly found you.

_I love you, Arthur._ Do you remember the very first day we met? From the very moment you fell from the sky, it was as if heaven sent me an angel. Our trip to the light show was one of the best days of my life, for you have become not just my lover and companion, but also my best friend."

At this point, Arthur began to tear up, all those memories beginning to one again surface and fill his mind.

"I want to be your lover, your companion and your best friend for the rest of my life. I promise to love and cherish you, to keep you close and with faithfulness, to support and help you in times of need, to make you laugh and to hold you when you cry, to hold you to the highest respect and honor as you so deserve for the rest of my life."

The ceremony continued on with the "I do's", the exchanging of rings, the whole package. To Arthur, he wished that this would finish up, and they could go straight to the hall and _show off_.

Francis assured him that they were almost done.

"May you always share with each other the gifts of love – be one in heart and in mind – may you always create a home together that puts in your hearts – love – generosity and kindness, in as much as Francis and Arthur have consented together in marriage before this company of friends and family and have pledged their faith – and declared their unity by giving and receiving a ring – are now joined.

You have pronounced yourselves husband and wife but remember to always be each other's best friend.

_What – therefore – you have joined together – let no man put asunder."_

They had, he wished to push that memory away. Arthur didn't want anyone to tear them apart again._  
_  
"And so, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wed – and may your days be good and long upon the earth."

_You may now kiss the bride._

Sure, they had kissed plenty of times before. But when Francis leaned over and casually brushed his lips over Arthur's, it was just as nostalgic as their first time; sparks flew, but it was almost too quick to end.

In the background, Arthur could hear the faint thunder of the crowd's cheers, Alfred's loud mouth screaming "AWH YEAH. YOU LIKE THAT!" while Matthew dragged Alfred to the back to shut him up.

And as Francis pulled back, eyes half-lidded with love, he picked up Arthur bridal style, and carried him out of the chapel and into the banquet hall. At least now, they could eat.

* * *

A lit up dance floor, tons of food supplied by Francis' father, their friends and family mingling and best of all actually _getting along; _despite the obvious cultural conflict.

Arthur sat at the head table; Francis had gone off to refill their drinks. Poking at the five star meal, he pondered on how lucky he was to make it up to this point in his life.

Francis came back soon after, placing Arthur's wine glass on the table before sitting himself down.

"Are you alright?" Francis laughed, "I would not want my _wife _to be upset on his wedding day…"

Blushing instantly at the word, he playfully punched his co-husband in the arm, pouting, "Not funny."

Arthur's scowl soon turned to a smile, "…at least not in _public _I won't admit it."

"Of course you would, _Cher_."

This small display of affection came to a halt, however, when a familiar female figure walked up to them, a box in hand.

"Hello" She smiled, genuinely, and held out the offering, "Here" She spoke, one worded answers; Arthur was confused.

"M-Ms. Jeanne?" He was shocked, yes, but that previous feeling of jealousy and hate wasn't evident. If anything, it was a feeling of bringing peace, of burying an ugly memory that would surely haunt the two in the future.

"How is the baby?" Arthur asked, small talk not small enough to hold a stable, concrete conversation. Luckily, she replied in a kind voice, "Fine, though at times it can be a handful. But that is not why I am here."

She cleared her throat, "I wish for you both to be happy." Jeanne started, "I hope that in the future, you will bear no grudge against me, for I am truly sorry for the pain this has caused you."

"It's alright." He could forgive her, in fact, he already had. She was just a girl after all! Someone's _daughter _for crying out loud! She did no wrong; like any human, she only wanted love, to give and to receive. He put this into perspective.

"Had we met under different circumstances, we may have been good friends."

"I believe so too." They laughed, together, something Arthur thought would never happen. To get along with someone who almost ruined his relationship with Francis; but of course, he knew, it wasn't completely her fault. There was indeed, partial blame.

"So, what will you do now?" He was curious, she had no where to run, no where to support herself. How funny it was, she was the heir of a multi-million dollar corporation, and suddenly, with a child, she lost it all.

"Perhaps I will travel, find a place where no one knows me; start life anew."

"Sounds like a good plan." He was happy for her; at least she could get away from a false life; away from all the hard work of dealing with money.

"I wish you luck."

* * *

The reception soon grew rampant, the dance floor flooded with people, dancing, jumping, _grinding_, one couple of which everyone kept a good distance from; if only Alfred weren't so "in touch" with his raging hormones.

After their first dance, Francis stopped in the middle of their second; a fast song. He looked around, warily, and pulled Arthur to the exit, whispering, "If we leave now, they will not notice."

Leave? Why would they leave their own reception? "…W-wha-?"

"Just follow." He pointed to his car, parked just to the side of a nearby metre. Thinking quickly, or possibly, not at all, Arthur slipped into the passenger's seat as Francis turned on the ignition and set the car in motion.

Francis' driving, Arthur noticed, was quite different from the usually calm and smooth route they usually took. But, when he began to recognize land features and buildings, he maybe _sort of _knew where this was going.

Francis took a sharp right turn, then, veering left he swerved into an empty parking space and stopped the car.

Not saying a word, Francis simply unlocked their doors and stepped outside, Arthur doing the same. Still confused, Arthur followed as Francis power-walked to the nearest elevator; of which his father had donated, a section in the contract his father had agreed to, for him to study at the school.

The high pitched _beep _of the elevator signalled its arrival, the doors slowly opening as the couple walked inside. Francis' silence remained consistent, which, in turn, made Arthur even more nervous than he already, was. In the panel of about five buttons, only one was lit; the singularity not helping in the least for his nerves.

Another _beep _and they had made it to the top. The doors slowly retracted, and they got out, now, they were _both _silent.

"W-wh….what is _this?_" Arthur stuttered, trying to regain his composure.

"That, is a tent." Francis stated obviously, "We will be spending our night here."

They entered the tent; a foam mattress placed neatly in the centre, typical also; familiar red petals scattered over the floor, and the light semi-sweet scent of designer candles on the side. The walls were plain, except for a clear mesh of a wall behind the mattress.

Sitting on the bed, Arthur looked through; from the part of the roof that they were currently sitting at, he leaned a bit, the canvas before him bore dots of bright lights, from moving cars to stop lights; the neon signs on late night coffee shops, and the stars in the sky.

Francis wasted no time joining Arthur on the bed, and directly pulling him into a hug, "You are nervous." He almost laughed; here they were, and he wasn't even sure if something was _different. _It wasn't like they hadn't done this before.

"…s-so?" What was the point in hiding it? He had already pushed his embarrassment over the edge at the reception; so now wasn't as big of a deal.

"Then…" Francis pushed Arthur down on the mattress, leant down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, "How do you feel now?"

"Sleepy…" He lied. Too nervous to say what he actually wanted to. _He was happy._

"Hmm? Alright then, you may sleep now." Francis turned over, his back facing Arthur, "Good night, _Cher!_"

Disappointed, Arthur sat up and blushed for about the hundredth time that night; what he was about to do, he would surely regret later. Or, at least, become even more embarrassed and hide himself in his closet until everyone – Francis – forgot.

He shook Francis' shoulder, honestly believing that his now _husband _was actually asleep, "I-I'm…not tired…"

Suddenly, he heard faint laughter, followed by Francis getting up and kissing Arthur once more – this time, much more heated, loving; complete.

It took no less than a minute for the couple to totally shed their clothing to the side and continue on with their business.

This time was different than the last; because they had more time, it was much easier to admire each other's bodies.

Francis immediately took notice of Arthur's small form beneath him; a pale but fair complexion, a thin waist; his face red with self-consciousness, striking green eyes bright with lust at the moment's plea. He couldn't have asked for more.

In comparison, Arthur became aware of his lover's well toned muscles, his skin – he could tell – was very well taken care of; the result of being pampered as a child. Francis' eyes contrasted with Arthur's. An almost middle toned blue peered straight into his own, not to mention _other places; _althoughhe'd rather keep that information to himself.

It had become obvious that from their first experience, Francis wanted something different; something that no one could really _portray _in movies or videos. He didn't believe in simple "_sex_" as the medical term was used. He believed in "_making love_"; the kind of feeling you not get just physically, but mentally also.

The one night stands he had in the past, how he truly regrets giving his first to _someone else other than Arthur_. It haunted him; he was so lucky to have someone so amazing, and here he was, not even able to give that meaningful symbol back.

As he started and continued to prepare both himself and Arthur, he subconsciously began to think. It was true that they had moved too fast. It was a risk; but it happened.

When he was sure that Arthur was ready, he lifted him up so that they were now in a sitting position; Arthur sitting comfortably in his lap.

"Ready, _Cher?_" He whispered against Arthur's lips, lifting him up and slowly lowering him down onto his shaft until he was fully in.

Francis paused for a moment – as hard as it was – so that Arthur would have some time to adjust. Tears were beading at the corners of Arthur's eyes, as he bit down on his bottom lip trying to get used to the feeling.

When he finally loosened up, Francis pulled out slowly, before thrusting in. Arthur cried out, whimpering as he held on to Francis, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

Leaning forward now so that Arthur could lie down, Francis thought it'd be easier for him to relax.

Sensing his lover convulsing in his lower regions, he came to the conclusion that he was close.

Francis quickened his pace, wanting Arthur to feel as good as possible. When he felt Arthur tighten around him, he held him close, whispering gibberish-infused love; flooding the atmosphere around them. Arthur came; Francis followed soon after, riding it off for a moment before collapsing cautiously on Arthur.

For about an hour, they stayed in bed, basking in the afterglow of their previous activity. Arthur flipped over on his stomach, looking out through the mesh wall; some lights had faded and turned off, and although it was almost pitch black, he could still see the stars up in the sky.

Looking over, Francis also turned over, smiling at Arthur lovingly as he kept his eyes fixed on the lights outside.

"Do you love me?" Francis asked suddenly; Arthur was shocked, almost – angry, even.

"O-of course I do!" He shouted, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting, to which Francis answered, "Then prove it to me. Shout it to the world." He gestured towards the mesh.

"Fine!" He blushed, leaned over to Francis' ear and whispered quietly, "_I love you, jerk."_

"Hmm? Why did you whisper it to me?"

"Because…" Arthur looked away, suddenly stricken with shyness; he whispered even more gently, "_You are my world."_

_This would mark the beginning, of both of their lives._

_

* * *

_

It had been a whole year since then; past their graduation, their packing up, and moving to a new house. Francis had renewed the channels of communication between himself and his father; regardless of how long the silence between them for years; evoked emotions between the two that they thought impossible. Now the happy owner of a branch restaurant chain supported by his family, he had hired Arthur as a waiter, so as to keep the two of them close.

"_Cher…" _Francis complained, "Will you please put down that book? You have been attached to that thing for weeks!"

Flipping a page, Arthur looked up from the book and whined, "But I'm on my break right now!"

The clanking of dishes echoed in the sink as Francis turned the tap on to wash them, "You have read that book many times already! Are you not tired of it?"

"I don't think I ever could be." He turned the page again, "…you know, Romeo is my favourite character."

"Is that so?" He squeezed some soap onto a nearby sponge and began to clean the plates, "and why is that?"

"Mhmm. I've always wanted to meet someone with such a deep personality; some one with a strange infatuation with love, a need for rebellion, something forbidden. Sort of like…you."

Another page turn; Francis laughed, finished up and walked over to Arthur, hugging him from behind, "_'Sort of'; You know I can never…_"

"Yes, I know." Arthur leaned up; kissed Francis on the lips and sighed contently, "You're only one half my Romeo."

* * *

_"For never was a story of more woe  
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."_

**THE END**

**

* * *

**

**FINISHED**

Thank you all for reading my very first multi-chaptered story! All your reviews made me so happy! I wish this story didn't have to end, I love it so much! But, stay tuned for the upcoming **SEQUEL**.

**CONTEST RESULTS:**

Thanks for all your entries! The answers were all really great! Here, I will announce the top three winners for the hard, medium and easy questions:

**HARD: **Which character(s) do/does Matthew and Alfred represent in the original "Romeo and Juliet"? and why?

**WINNER: **I am a purple crayon

**ANSWER: "**I believe that Matthew and Alfred represent one character; Mercutio. Mercutio is a very funny character in the romantic play that is also a good friend of Romeo. He is also a sexual person and is more into being physically romantic than connecting on an emotional level.

Alfred and Matthew are also like this. They add a lot of humor (and not to mention fan service) to serious situations. In addition, Matthew and Alfred,like,totally play Arthur's BFFs. Finally, they have a very... physical relationship. All in all, Alfred and Matthew resemble Mercutio the most out of all the characters in Shakespeares work of genius, Romeo and Juliet."

**MEDIUM:** What kind of tea does Arthur offer Francis first?

**WINNER: **Allyon Everstone

**ANSWER: "**a swirl of orange liquid and grey-ish black herbs A tart, tangy flavor , a hinted mix of orange and lemon; not too sweet, not too strong either.

I'm guessing a lemon mint tea"

**EASY: **What is the name of Arthur's plush? Why do you think he named it so?

**WINNER: **Luciyfer

**ANSWER: ** "I THINK HE NAMED HIS UNICORN THAT BECAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE A VERY UNICORN-ISH NAME FOR A UNICORN AND ARTHUR LIKES UNICORNS. AND THE UNICORN MUST BE FLUFFY BECAUSE THAT UNICORN IS FUCKING BOSS AND ONLY A BOSS PLUSHIE UNICORN CAN BE FLUFFY.

BTW THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER LIKE ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK."

**PRIZES: **

_Hard: _One shot with pairing of the reader's choice (based on the pairings list on my user profile; there are some exceptions [e.g. No crack pairings]), and an illustrated drawing of any scene in the fic _under_ the "T" rating.

_Medium: _Illustration of any scene rated "T" and under.

_Easy: _Suggestion of a scene that I will write in the "One Half Romeo" sequel.

(_WINNERS MUST LEAVE A REVIEW IN THIS CHAPTER AS TO WHAT THEY WANT IN THEIR PRIZES)_

If you're not up in the top three **don't worry, you still win!**

Listed below are the other readers who have entered the contest! If you entered, you may request a scene that be written in the **SEQUEL **when it is posted up. In other words, **all **the scenes from the other readers will be put somewhere in the sequel you must also leave your scene idea in a review so that I can see if you've claimed your prize:

PrussianAwesomeness

RasalynnLynx

Valainstima

Teal Phoenix

**ONE HALF ROMEO FINAL ANALYSIS:**

See the list of characters and roles played, the behind the scenes look, and the making of the story.

Found here: http : / / emgee-chan . deviantart . c o m / journal / 36410107/

**ONE HALF ROMEO PURIKURA SCENE ART:**

http : / / emgee-chan . deviantart . com / # / d330cdy

* * *

**NEW STORY ALERT: "SECONDHAND MARIONETTE"**

If you enjoyed "One Half Romeo", you might enjoy my latest story, "Secondhand Marionette"

_Pairings: _USCAN, FrUK

_Genre: _Romance/Humour/Adventure

_Summary: "_And, like a collector falling in love with that cute doll in the window, it was only natural that one would make the purchase. That is, until those said "inanimate" objects fall in love with their new masters."


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